


Never Tear Us Apart

by imeanthatsprettysnazzy



Series: Movie AUs [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Parent Trap Fusion, Aunt Peggy Carter, Broken Families, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Genius Peter Parker, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Italian Tony Stark, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, May Parker and Tony Stark are Siblings, Morgan Potts - Freeform, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Stark - Freeform, Peter and Morgan like art, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Secret Identity, Slightly - Freeform, Timeline What Timeline, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Twins, and was howards favourite, because Pepper does too, becuase I can, but similar story line, but still very different, but that bitch was still a dick, genius morgan stark, hes still an unobservant idiot tho, i just realised that this is gonna be a rlly long fic, may is four years older than him, so yeet, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 160,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imeanthatsprettysnazzy/pseuds/imeanthatsprettysnazzy
Summary: They parted ways for the last time that night, Tony taking Peter back to New York with him, openly crying. Pepper watched him leaving from Morgan bedroom window, sobbing into her two and a half year old daughters hair.This was goodbye.OROne thing lead to another, and Pepper Potts became pregnant with Tony Starks child a month before he went missing in Afganistan, after a night that was never meant to happen. She has twins, Tony makes her CEO, the Avengers happen, she gets extemis, Tony cant stop being Iron Man, they try to work things out, they cant, the breakup is terribly handled, and they each end up with one two year old.ORa parent trap AU that nobody but me wanted.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Movie AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966744
Comments: 339
Kudos: 529





	1. PROLOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI i made myself sad writing the end of this chapter because I was like nooooooo i dont want to split them up after this build up but... it had to be done. 
> 
> also this is a different style to how i usually write, so have fun with that, i guess. 
> 
> edited a bit on August 11 becuase i left some stuff out (happy late birthday to peter parker)
> 
> Please do enjoy the child of my tears :,)
> 
> (August 30) hi I edited this chapter again :)

_**FEBUARY 27, 2010, 10:34 PM — PEPPER POTTS APARTMENT, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

Pepper Potts stared at the blue and white stick in her hand, completely terrified.

Two red lines.

This was number seven. The seventh test she had taken. The seventh test to come out positive. The seventh test confirming that she was, in fact, pregnant.

She, Pepper Potts, was really pregnant.

_Shit._

She looked down at her stomach. It was still flat — she didn’t know why she had expected to suddenly be heavily pregnant, despite having only just found out for real, because obviously she wasn’t.She couldn’t be more than two months into this... _pregnancy._

God, she was _actually fucking pregnant._

Shit.

Pepper felt tears coming into her eyes, and buried her head in her hands. She was pregnant.

Kids had never been a part of her plan. She had wanted them, once upon a time, but as time wore on she found that she just didn’t have enough time — she didn’t have time to meet a guy and settle down, let alone have kids.

Her job was demanding — _Tony_ was demanding. He was reckless and overworking, and her job as his personal assistant was basically just to keep him alive. To stop him from drinking too much and accidentally killing himself, or from getting brutally murdered by an angry board of directors if he was late to another meeting, or attacked by some girl that she had escorted out of his mansion for forgetting her.

That was different now, though, because Tony had been missing for a week.

 _Shit_ , Tony was missing.

Rhodey had come back without him, and now she didn’t technically have a job, and she really, really hated shadowing Obadiah Stane, because he was probably the creepiest person she knew.

She was pregnant. Tony was missing. She was Pregnant. Tony was missing.

Pepper couldn’t make sense of it; all cohesive thoughts muddling into something very close to a complete breakdown as she sobbed into her hands. She was pregnant. Tony was missing.

She already knew that she was going through with this. She had known the moment she even suspected that she was pregnant that she was going to keep this clump of cells. Going to have a baby — because even though she had never planned on having kids, she had felt a spark of happiness on the third morning of violent (what she now knew was) morning sickness that just made her feel like this, having this kid, was right.

Plus, this kid might be all that was left of Tony Stark.

Their night together had been... a mistake. A huge, gigantic, massive mistake. Tony was extremely drunk, and the more drunk he got, the more flirty he got. She had been pretty drunk herself, and had given in to his charm. She hadn’t meant to let it happen — it was unprofessional, and weird, and god it was embarrassing that she had hidden feelings for her boss — but it happened. It had been new year’s eve. The ‘ _kiss at midnight_ ’ tradition had led to more, and here she was. 

Here, pregnant with the child of Tony Stark, her missing, possibly dead, boss.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to talk to him right now. Not even to tell him about... all of this. Just to talk to him — because, ignoring their little incident last month (they both had been mutually agreeing not to talk about it), and the fact that she worked for him, they were friends. Good friends. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t terrified that Rhodey wouldn’t find him. She would be lying if she said some part of her didn’t truly believe he could find his way home.

She would also be lying if she said she hadn’t... felt something — that night. New Years.

The night of her child’s conception.

_Oh god._

She was actually pregnant. She was pregnant because she slept with her boss. Her boss was missing. She was pregnant, and the reason she was pregnant was because she had sex with her now missing boss.

Shit.

Pepper found herself holding her abdomen desperately, trying to protect the child that wasn’t even there yet as she continued to weep. And then she laughed — because she had always thought that when women in movies and books held their flat stomach when they found out they were pregnant was an exaggeration; a stereotype... and yet, here she was, doing the same damn thing.

And, on top of that, she was spiralling. She was pregnant, and she was pregnant because she slept with her boss, and her boss had been missing for a week, and Rhodey didn’t have any leads, and she just kept getting stuck in a loop.

She needed to call May.

Sitting straight upright abruptly, Pepper wipes her tears away. She needed to call may — one coherent, cohesive though within the mess that her brain was right now.

If she was a lesser woman, she would blame the mush that her head had turned to completely on hormones. But she wasn’t, so she would admit that she was completely and utterly terrified.

But she needed to call May, and so she did. She reached across from the toilet she was sitting on, and grabbed her phone, quickly dialling May. 

“May Parker speaking!” Mays voice came across the line, and Pepper sobbed in relief. _May_. Tony’s older sister — the person who understood him the most. The person who would know what to do.

“May?” She whispered hoarsely. “This — this is Pepper.”

“Pep? What’s wrong?” May asked, the worry evident in her voice. “Are you crying? What happen — what else happened?”

“May, I’m — I’m pregnant.” Pepper gasped the last word out, letting the tears engulf her.

Hormones. Whatever.

May gasped in surprise, letting out a soft laugh. “That’s amazing, sweetie!” She said, ever the supportive older sister type. “Why are you crying though? It’s okay — you can tell me!”

“It’s — Tony’s... I’m Pregnant — and it’s — Tony’s.” Pepper could barely get the words out, as she was wracked with another wave of sobs.

“You and Tony, huh? I’ll be completely honest, I saw that one coming — why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“We aren’t — we weren’t... together. This wasn’t — wasn’t meant to happen.”

“Oh.” May sounded very empathetic — she had always been good at the feelings thing; despite being the girl, and therefore not smart enough or ‘man’ enough to be the heir to Stark Industries, in Howard’s eyes, she had been his favourite; he actually spent time with her, and talked to her, and just genuinely seemed to like her... and that must’ve helped her grow some sort of emotional knowledge, because she was great at emotion. “Oh, sweetie. Honey, it’s okay. You don’t need to worry. It’s okay, everything will be fine. I’ll — i’ll book you an ultrasound, okay? We can sort everything out. And i’ll come to the ultrasound with you, i’ll even drag Ben along, alright? it’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” Pepper echoed the older woman. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I promise you, Pep. It’ll be okay, alright? Ultrasounds... how does monday sound, hey? First of March? Gives you a couple days to think things through?” The words ‘gives Tony a couple more days to come home’ go unsaid.

“Yeah. Yeah, Monday. Can — can you pick me up?”

“Of course I will, Pep. I’m here for you.”

“Thanks May.” Pepper whispered the words as she ended the call, tracing circles on her stomach slowly.

May was right. May was always right about everything, so why would she be wrong about this? She wouldn’t be. May Parker was correct:

Everything would be okay.

_**MARCH 01, 2010, 11:15 AM — OB-GYN, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

“This might feel cold when it touches your skin, and you’ll feel some pressure where it touches you, okay?” Doctor Arnolds said calmly, holding the transducer above Peppers bare stomach.

Pepper nodded, holding onto Mays hand tightly. May was sitting in a chair next to her, tears freely rolling down her cheeks — they had been since she picked Pepper up that morning. Pepper, luckily, had managed to keep some dignity, trying to opt her professional, ‘Pepper Potts, PA’ persona for the appointment.

The doctor let the blue part of the device come into contact with Peppers abdomen, and she get the tiny bit of pressure from it, as well as the coolness of the gel. It was a strange sensation, as the doctor looked at the screen in front of him. He tilted it slightly, so that Pepper and May could see the blurred black and white image of what must be a baby.

Arnolds smiles at them. “That is the baby’s head. They’re starting to develop lips and eyelids.” He shifted the transducer slightly, and the image shook. “Would you like to hear them?”

Large tears rolled down Peppers cheeks, and she clamped her free hand over her mouth. That was her baby, on that screen. That was her child. She nodded tearily.

The soft beating of a heart filled the room, and Pepper was transfixed. The soft sound seemed to envelop her, echoing around the room. “Holy shit.” She whispered. That was her baby. Her very alive baby, who had a heartbeat, and lips, and eyelids.

She didn’t notice Doctor Arnolds frown until a second too late, and she stared at him in terror when she did. “Is everything okay, Doctor?” She asked, her voice slightly muffled by her hand.

His glance flickered to her momentarily, and he gave a small smile. “Everything is fine, Miss Potts.” He moves the device again, the cold sensation surprising Pepper slightly. The underdeveloped baby moved out of view for a second, before it reappeared.

It was upside down now.

“Did it move?” May asked softly, raising an eyebrow at the screen in a way that reminded Pepper so terribly of Tony that she let out a soft sob. “How did they move?”

“They did not move, Miss Parker —“

“—Just May —“

“Okay, _just May_.” Arnolds gave May a look, before turning back to Pepper. “They did not move. _They_ are twins.”

Peppers world froze around her as she heard the word. _Twins_. Child, multiple. Children.

She wasn’t having her missing bosses child. She was having her missing bosses child _ren_. She was having twins.

“I’m sorry, _what?”_ Pepper exclaimed, before May could utter a word. She surprised herself with the strength in her voice.

“You’re having twins. There’s one right here, and the other is... here. They both have nice strong heartbeats, and everything is looking good and well. Congratulations!”

“Twins.” Pepper murmured, astounded. It was easy to lay down the facts: twins, existing because of Tony Starks genetic material, while the man himself was somewhere unknown in Afganistan... but actually wrapping her head around the notion was not easy. It was the complete opposite, and no matter how many times she repeated the words in her head, they still didn’t seem to make sense.

Tony Stark is missing, she slept with him, and was now pregnant with twins who shared fifty percent of his DNA.

Tony Stark is missing, she slept with him, and was now pregnant with twins who shared fifty percent of his DNA.

Tony Stark is missing, she slept with him, and was now pregnant with twins who shared fifty percent of his DNA.

It still didn’t make sense.

“Twins.” May echoed, her voice even softer than Peppers. May squeezed her hand tightly, offering a bright, teary smile. “You’re having twins, Pep!”

“I’m having twins!” She repeated one last time, looking across at May happily. “I, Pepper Potts, am having twins.”

**_MAY 31, 2010, 12:47 PM — EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, MOJAVE, CALIFORNIA._ **

Pepper bit her bottom lip as Tony started walking off the military aircraft, leaning heavily on Rhodey. He waved off the stretcher that was being rolled over to him, and let go of Rhodey. He only stopped walking forward when he was right in front of her.

There he was. The man she had been wishing to see for three months. The man that fathered her unborn children. He looked like absolute shit — he was pale, he had unsuccessfully attempted to tame his hair, he had a dark bruise on his cheek, and his right arm was in a sling — but he was there. When she found out, and rushed with Happy and May to the Airstrip, she hadn’t been able to stop her overjoyed tears, be it from hormones or just her genuine relief that Tony was back.

Tony sniffed, seemingly assessing her.

Pepper had been hiding her pregnancy from everyone but May and her husband Ben

She couldn’t tell Obie, because she’d seen his reaction with previous paternity cases and did not want to be subjected to that, she hadn’t told Rhodey, because he was notoriously bad at keeping calm with big situations, Happy would’ve told Tony the second he returned without giving Pepper the opportunity to explain by herself, and there wasn’t exactly anyone else to tell.Plus, she knew Tony’s views on children and media exposure. If he decided to be an active part of her kids lives (and she had faith in him), then she knew that he wouldn’t want other people to know.

“Your eyes are red.” Tony finally said, apparently not taking notice of the very well hidden baby bump (Thank you so much, May). “Few tears for your long lost boss?”

Pepper had to stop herself from flinching when he said boss, reminding her of just how unprofessional the situation she was in was. She almost sassed him with something about hormones, but had to stop herself. There were people everywhere; she could tell him another time, when no one was around.

“Tears of _joy_.” She ended up saying — and oh how true that was. “I hate job hunting.”

“Yeah, well, vacations over—”

“Give me a fucking hug you _asshole!”_ May exclaimed, pushing forward to engulf her younger brother. “You scare me like that again, Tony, and I swear to got, I will tear your house apart bit by bit. I will personally dismantle DUM-E, and U, and Butterfingers, and throw their motherboards into a fire. You, _Anthony Edward Stark,_ are a fucking dickhead.”

Most of Mays little outburst was muffled in Tony’s shoulder as she hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, and Pepper could see the little sigh of relief that he let out.

“Love you too, May.” He said sarcastically, still hugging her. “I missed you so fucking much — despite you calling me Anthony Edward Stark, _Maybelle Margaret Stark_. ”

They finally parted, and May punched him on his left shoulder — the one not in a sling. “Fucking missed you too, little bro. Super sick of house sitting. Also, it’s Parker now, you little punk — has been for years, and you fucking know it. ”

“Don’t worry, you and Ben can be in your happy little Queens bubble whenever you wanna be now — _Maybelle Margaret Parker._ ” Tony teased.

“Yeah, well, you have to clean your pool all by yourself now, _Anthony Edward Stark,_ sooo…” She flipped him off, and Tony laughed.

“Hey, well, at least you’re named after Aunt Peggy, and not stupid old great Uncle Edward.” Tony scoffed.

“Cant argue on that one.” May muttered. “God, he was worse than you, idiot.”

Tony and May were completely different, and yet inseparable. Pepper assumed that was a sibling thing... although, they had been raised very differently. May, while getting their fathers attention and love, was never intended to be the future of Stark Industries. May was fine with that, instead having gone on to become a surgeon, but it just went to prove that Howard Stark was a shitty dad either way. May hadn’t been allowed to skip grades, despite her intellect, or to become CEO or majority share holder. The media actually tended to forget about her.

Tony, on the other hand, had gotten the cold shoulder from his father, being thrown into the world of academics, graduating high school at fourteen, finishing MIT summa cum laude at seventeen, and becoming CEO of Stark Industries at twenty one, despite his sister being levelheaded, twenty five, and already having graduated from med school at the time.

May was forgotten by the media, Tony was basically stalked. May was loved by their dad, Tony wasn’t. May decided to get married and settle down, Tony was... still acting like a young idiot (and she was pregnant with twins that shared half of his DNA, but he didn’t know that.)

The thing that they shared, that truly solidified their bond, was Maria Stark. Their mom. Their too good for this world, amazing at piano, Italian extraordinaire, amazing mom.

“You coming with, May?” Tony asked.

“Nope.” May said, giving him a pat on the back. “I will be at your stupid ass, gigantic, impossible to cook in house.”

“That’s just you not being able to cook.” Tony said, turning around.

“You can’t cook either!” May yelled back, making him roll his eyes.

“Right, Happy, Pepper, we need to go.” Tony stepped toward the car, and they all got into it.

“Where to, sir?” Happy asked from the front seat. 

Pepper put on her seatbelt, and placed her large bag on her lap — ah the tricks of hiding a pregnancy. “Take us to the hospital, please, Happy.”

“No.”

“No?” She stared at Tony like he was crazy. “ _Tony_ —“

“No is a _complete_ answer.”

“—you have to go to the hospital —“

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“—The doctor has to look at you!”

“I’ve been in captivity for three months,” Tony raised his voice slightly. “There are two things I want to do. I want an American Cheeseburger, and the other...”

He was looking at her in that way — like he had on new years. Eyes filled with longing and desperation and love and hope.

She rolled her eyes slightly, trying to think of anything but her overwhelming feeling, and stop her hormones from taking over. “That’s enough of that.”

“Is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference, now.”

“Call for a press conference? What on earth for?”

“Hogan, drive.” Tony cut over her, looking at Happy. “Cheeseburger first.”

_**JUNE 03, 2010, 10:47 M — TONY STARKS MANSION, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

Everyone was all over Tony right now. And Stark Industries. Tony shut down the weapons division, and now people were making a mockery of them.

Someone had even gone as far as to file an injunction against Tony.

He was hiding in the lab, doing... whatever it was that he did down there. She couldn’t hear the sound of his loud music, though, which was slightly concerning. Tony _never_ worked in silence.

Pepper flinched as the guy on the video she was wavy hong hit a mug with a bat, sending smashed pieces of it flying everywhere.

“Pepper! Uh, how big are your hands?” Tony’s voice came across the intercom, and she quickly muted the video playing, which was basically just a guy smashing the shit out of stuff to make fun of SI.

“What?”

“How big are your hands?” He repeated.

“I... I don’t understand, why—“ She began, but Tony cut her off.

“Get down here, I need you.”

Pepper sighed, putting her laptop down on the coffee table, trying not to think about the fact that the white couch right across from her was where the incident happened. She couldn’t think about that. He was her boss, and she couldn’t think like that.

She paused at the top of the stairs, looking down at her pretty obviously swollen belly. She was five months along; the only way she could hide her bump was big jackets, bags that covered her obvious bump, and carrying stuff in front of her. Flowy shirts tended to work as well. But all she had was her comfortable clothes. No big jacket, or bag, or anything to carry. Leaving the fact that she was pregnant for all to see.

Today, she was going to have to face the music. She would have to tell Tony.

She went down to the workshop as quickly as she could, and typed in the three numbers of the password so that she could enter.

“Hey.” Tony said, his voice softer than usual. He was lying on a gurney in the middle of the workshop, chest bare, with a heart monitor beeping next to him. “Let’s see em. Show me your hands. See em.”

Pepper held her hands up, admittedly confused, as she walked towards him. Tony’s eyes, weather it was a good thing or a bad thing, didn’t stray down to her baby bump.

“Oh wow, they are small. Very petite. Indeed.” He sighed deeply. “I just need your help for a sec.”

He was holding something small, round and glowing, and the metal thing in his chest was on full view. Tony had told her about it, and said it was a miniaturised arc reactor, like the one at the factory. But unlike Rhodey and Obie, she hadn’t seen it. Pepper felt tears come to her eyes, but blinked them away.

“ _Oh my god_ , is that the thing keeping you alive?” She stared at the metal circle, fighting back the wave of nausea that threatened to hit her — _god_ , morning sickness was shit, and this was not helping.

“It was. It is _now_ an antique. This is what will be keeping me alive for the foreseeable future, I was swapping it out for an upgraded unit, and I just ran into a little... speed bump.”

“What speed bump? What do you — what does that mean?” She asked in horror.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just a little snag.” He assured, looking at the new unit with something akin to nervousness on his face. This was serious, then — Tony Stark didn’t get nervous. He twisted the thing in his chest, and the glowing part became visible.“There’s an exposed wire under this device, and it’s contacting the socket wall.” He yanked it out, and passed it to her. “And it’s causing a little bit of a shortage. It’s — fine.”

“Wh—wha— what do you want me to do.” She scrunched her face up at the device in her hands.

“Put that on the table over there, that is irrelevant.”

“Oh my god...”

“I just want you to reach in, and you’re just gonna gently reach the wire out...” He breathed out heavily.

“Is it safe?” Pepper asked, looking between Tony and the hole in his chest.

“Yeah, it should be fine. It’s just like operation, just don’t let it touch —“ He waved his hand around the circle of the hole. “The socket wall, or it goes beep.”

“What’s operation? What do you mean, operation?”

“It’s just a game, never mind. Just gently lift the wire...”

“Okay...” Pepper was completely aware that her voice was shaking as her hand hovered over the hole in Tony’s chest.

“Okay? Great.”

She moved her hand closer, then pulled away with a wince. “You know, I — I don’t think i’m qualified to do this!”

“Noo, you’re fine...”

“I can — I — I can call May, she a surgeon, and —“

“You are the most capable, qualified, trustworthy person i’ve ever met. You’re gonna do great — plus, Mays off in Parker Paradise with Ben.” Tony stopped her nervous ramble, and looked her right in the eyes. It was that look again. The one from that night, and from the car on the way to the press conference. The look that told Pepper that maybe — just maybe — they had the chance at more. “Is it too much of a problem to ask? cause i’m, i’m—“

“Okay, okay.”

“— I really need your help here. Okay.”

Tony closed his eyes, and Pepper took a deep breath, putting her hand into the socket. “Oh my god — oh — oh _there’s puss —“_

“It’s not puss, it’s a plastic discharge — it’s from the device, not from my body.”

Pepper gagged, once again trying not to be sick all over him. “It smells—“

“Yeah it does. The copper wire. The copper wire, you got it?”

“Okay, I got it, I got it.”

“You got it? Okay now don’t it torch the si-“ There’s was a loud buzzing noise, and Tonys eyes widened. “-ides, ides. When you’re coming up. That’s what I was _trying_ to say before.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She rushed though the words, scrunching up her face still. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, now make sure when you’re pulling it out that you don’t pull out — there’s a magnet at the end on it...” Pepper yanked the whole thing out, and Tony’s body lurched forward slightly. The heart monitors started going crazy. “That was it. You’ve just pulled out —“

“— Oh god —“

“Okay, I was not expecting — don’t put it back in! Don’t put it back in!”

Pepper grimaces at the copper thing she was holding, and put it back on the table with the other arc reactor. Tony breathed in shakily. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, i’m just going into cardiac arrest, because you yanked it out—“

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

“What? You said this was safe!”

“We gotta hurry. Take this, take this, we gotta switch it out really quick.” He handed her the replacement reactor.

“Okay, okay — Tony?”

“What?”

“It’s gonna be okay...”

“ _Is_ it?”

“It’s gonna be okay. I — i’m gonna make this okay.”

“Well that’s... Okay, you’re gonna attach that — to the base plate...” Pepper started to put the new device into the hole. “And make s-s-sure, you— yaaaa — ow.”

Pepper attached it, and it made a loud click sound. Tony’s eyes flew open, as the monitors calmed down. She started trying to twist the device closed again. “Was that so hard? That was fine, right? — here, I got it, I got it, here.” He closed it up himself, and smiled at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I feel great.” Tony started laughing, and she glared at him. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t ever. Ever, ever, ever ask me don’t do anything like that, _ever_ again.” She winced as she looked at her wet hands — god, they had been inside of his chest.

The look covered Tony’s face again. “I — I don’t have anyone, but you.” He half smiled, and she stared back in shock. “I mean, I have May and Rhodey, but—“

She cut him off by holding up a finger, saying _‘give me a second’,_ as she grabbed the trash can that was very conveniently next to her, and finally gave into the nausea, vomiting into it violently.

Tony took the things attaching him to the monitors off, and stood up. “Oh, are you—“ 

“I’ve _fine_.” Pepper muttered, standing back up as well, and grabbing the old reactor. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“That? Destroy it. Incinerate it.” He tapped the new one in his chest twice.

She stepped closer to him, holding it between them as a last ditch attempt to hide her belly — it was probably pointless. If he hadn’t noticed by now, he probably wouldn’t at all. “You don’t wanna keep it?”

“Pepper, i’ve been called many things, nostalgic is not one of them.”

She frowned, and looked up from the device to his eyes. “Well, maybe it should be.”

Tony blinked, and raised one of his eyebrows, face a mixture of surprise and confusion. Pepper dropped her hands to her side. There wasn’t any point hiding it.

She had come to her decision — she was telling him, right here, right now.

“I’m pregnant.”

Tony blinked again, and his eyes flew down to her stomach, realising how big it was for the first time. She shrugged. “I’m almost twenty-three weeks. Five-ish months. I’m due on August fourteenth.”

“Five... five months?” Tony said slowly, still staring at her large belly. “You’re five months pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re — it’s — they are? So — big.” He stumbled over his words, eyes flickering to hers nervously. He had undoubtedly come to the same conclusion as her — that she was pregnant with his children.

“Twins.” She explained, fiddling with the arc reactor nervously. “That’s why they’re due earlier. Otherwise I would be due in September, but...”

“Twins.” He echoed. He leant back on the gurney, his face paling. “Is this because of —“

“New years?” Pepper offered. He swallowed, looking up at her with the look, nervousness mixed in with it, and nodded. “As far as I can tell, yes. I don’t exactly have sex often, and the dates match up. Doctor Arnolds said that the date of conception would have been between the twenty-ninth and the second.”

Tony flinched slightly when she said _sex_ , but continued to stare at her in shock. “Holy shit.” He murmured. “Holy _shit!_ You’re — you’re pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“Because of what happened on new years?”

“Its the only plausible answer.”

“Holy shit.”

She looked down at him empathetically, giving him a sad smile. “Its okay if you don’t want to..be a part of this, but—“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He cut over her. His face was pale, and his hands were shaking slightly. “Before I left, why didn’t you say anything? You were already starting to be sick, I remember. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Pepper winced at his words, but she could tell that he was just trying to make sense of it — she had gone through the exact same thing — but she felt tears begin to roll down her cheeks anyway. Stupid hormones. “I didn’t know. I didn’t take the test until a week — a week after — after you left.”

“Oh, shit, um—“ He moved toward her as she started openly crying, wrapping an arm around her instinctively. “Im sorry, I didn’t mean — im just—“

“Confused, I know.” She said, between sniffles. “Don't mind — don’t mind me. I cried at a car commercial yesterday.”

He gave a short breathy laugh, and Pepper noticed just how close together they were. She blinked, and looked him in the eyes, a strange feeling of longing filling her.

They both began to lean together, closer to one another — just like they had on that night — and Pepper suddenly became aware of lips touching hers.

Tonys lips.

She and Tony were kissing.

 _Again_. Shit.

The kiss was soft, and surprisingly loving.

Flustered, Pepper stepped away, looking at Tony in surprise.

“I — uh… tell me you don’t ever think about that night?” He said, looking at her with his eyes filled with hope. Hope, and love.

“New Years?” She asked, and he nodded. “Yes, I think about new years — the night that my kids were conceived.”

“Not.. I mean — about how it _felt_ … right? Could you feel it too?”

Pepper sighed. She wasn’t sure why, but even though he now knew that she was pregnant with their children, she just wanted to deny her feelings for him more. “New Years was a _mistake_ , Tony—”

“It didn’t feel like a mistake, though!” He reasoned. Despair was joining the love and hope in his overly expressive eyes, and he took one of her hands — the one not holding the device. “ _This_ doesn’t feel like a mistake. I —”

“So you want to be part of their lives? You’re gonna be their father?” She asked. The truth was that she had felt it — and the kiss hadn’t felt like a mistake. It felt right. Tony felt right.

For some reason, she couldn’t seem to admit that.

“Yes!” Tony exclaimed. “For them, for you, whatever, I just — I need you, Pep. You just — Okay, look, Im a lot less good at this than May, but I — I just want to be with you, with them…”

This time, it was Pepper cutting him off — and it was with another kiss, rather than words. A passionate, deep, loving kiss.

“How’d you hide it, anyway?” Tony asked, when they finally pulled apart.

Pepper smirked. “You have your sister to thank for that. Lots of tricks. Lots of very flows blouses. I am so sick of being pregnant.”

“So no-one knows?”

“Just May and Ben.” She confirmed. “I don’t really fancy becoming known as the assistant that you knocked up.”

Tony laughed softly, and looked at her. “I think we should stick with not telling people. I don’t exactly have the most stable life — plus, Afghanistan just proves that people wanna get rid of me. I don't want anyone targeting them — or you.”

“I think we should too. Too dangerous.” Pepper smiled at him. “And, thank you, Tony. For being a part if this. I know you have daddy issues—“

“Don’t call them Daddy issues. Rhodey does that, and its gross.”

“—issues with your father, but I believe in you. We can do this.”

“We can do this.” Tony echoed with a soft smile on his face. “Also, I’m gonna go over and see Rhodey at the base in a bit, do you need anything? Ice cream? Shrimp? I don’t know what you’re craving?”

“Im good.” She said, before lifting the old reactor that she was still holding, and pointing towards the door. “Im gonna go — yeah. I’ll see you later.”

“Alright — oh, and Pepper?”

She turned on her way out, looking at him with one hand on the door.

“Thanks for letting me be a part of this.”

Pepper smiled at Tony. "Will that be all, Mister Stark?"

"That will be all, Miss Potts."

_**JUNE 17, 2010, 6:47 PM — TONY STARKS MANSION, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

Tony was checking some of the wiring in his suit when Pepper walked into his workshop. Her pregnancy still had him in awe. They hadn’t told anyone else yet, because he wasn’t completely sure who to trust, and so she was still hiding it most of the time — very well, too. He would have know idea if he didn’t know that his tiny children were growing inside of her.

“Hey.” He said, moving toward her and picking up a lock chip from his desk. “You busy? Mind if I send you on an errand? I need you to go to my office and hack into the mainframe, you’re gonna retrieve all of the recent shipping manifests. This is a lock chip—“ he put the device down in front of her. “This’ll get you in. Its probably under executive files, if not, they put it on a ghost drive, in which case you need to look for the lowest numerical category.”

“And what do you plan to do with this information if I bring it back here?”

“Same drill.” He said, pressing some buttons to ready his suit for use. “They’ve been dealing under the table, i'm gonna stop it. I'm gonna find my weapons, and _destroy_ them.”

“Tony… You know I would help you with anything, but… I cannot help you if you’re gonna start all of this again.”

Tony didn’t look at her as she spoke, instead looking at some of the schematics for his suit. “There’s nothing _except_ this. There is no art opening, there is no benefit, there’s _no safe world for our kids to grow up in,_ there is nothing to sign.” He raised his voice slightly as he turned towards her. “There is the next mission, and nothing else.”

Pepper nodded her head, her expression stony. “Is that so? Well then, I _quit_.” She threw the lock chip he had given her back onto his desk, and started towards the door.

“You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction, and now that im trying to protect the people that I put in harms way, you’re gonna walk out?” He said after her, desperation filling him.

He needed her. She was… she was Pepper, and Pepper was _everything_. Pepper was having his children — he still couldn’t get over that fact — and he couldn’t let her just walk out.

“You’re gonna kill yourself, Tony! And im not gonna be a part of it. God, I _cannot_ take this stress.” She said the last words quietly, probably not meaning for him to hear them.

Tony sat down, and stared sat the floor. “ I shouldn’t be alive — unless it was for a reason” He sighed, and looked at her. “Im not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know… what I have to do. And I know in my heart that its right. I need to do this — _for them_. I know that I can change this, and… if I can make a safer world for them, then I’m going to do it.”

Pepper sighed, and walked back toward the desk. She picked the lock chip back up, and looked him right in the eyes. “You’re all I have too, you know. And them.” She said quietly, before walking back out with the lock chip.

It was a few hours later, once it was getting dark, that Tonys phone finally rang.

Peppers number.

She hadn’t given him any information since he sent her out, and he had started to worry. About her, about the kids, about everything.

“Tony?” Peppers voice came over the line, when a loud ringing filled his ears, and he suddenly couldn’t move. He was paralysed. He couldn’t move. He could barely hear Pepper calling him from the phone.

He could feel a hand on his neck, guiding him back to lean on his sofa, and Obadiah’s voice filled his ears. “Breathe…. Easy, easy.”

Obie leant forward, so that Tony could just see him, and held up a silver device. “You remember this one, right? It’s a shame the government didn’t approve, there’s so many applications for causing short term paralysis.”

The mans footsteps filled his ears, and then Obie was right in front of him, taking some devices out of his ears. “Ah, Tony. When I, uh, ordered a hit on you, I worried that I was killing the golden goose — with you gone, it’d just be little May left with everything, and Howard never had any intention of having the business in her hand. But, you see —“

Obadiah picked up a round, metallic device, and pressed it against the arc reactor in his chest. “— it was just fate that you survived that.” The device detached the arc reactor, cutting Tony off from it. He lurched forward, and the sense of impending doom filled him.

He was going to die. He was stuck here, with nothing keeping him alive, and he would never see Pepper, or Rhodey, or May, or even Happy again. He would never meet his children. He was going to die.

Tony could feel his heart beating in his ears as Obie grinned at him, looking at the glowing reactor hungrily. “You had one last golden egg to give,” Obie scoffed. “You really think, that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you? Your father, he helped give us the atomic bomb — now what kind of world would we live in today if he was as selfish as you?”

The older man — his own damn godfather — yanked the arc reactor fully out, pulling out the magnet just like Pepper accidentally had a few weeks earlier. He could feel himself entering cardiac arrest again, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move. He was going to die.

“Oh its beautiful.” Obadiah murmured, looking over the reactor, and leaning an arm on the back of the couch sofa behind Tony. “Oh, Tony… This is your ninth symphony. Oh what a masterpiece, look at that… This is your legacy.”

Tony wanted to scream. He wanted to yell. He wanted to punch his godfather — who was actually fucking killing him — and tell him that _this wasn’t his legacy. That his unborn kids were his legacy._ He wanted to fucking kill Obadiah Stane.

But he couldn’t. He was paralysed. And now in cardiac arrest.

“A new generation of weapons… with this at its heart.” Obie was now sitting next to him, hand behind his back, too close. Way too close. The thing he needed to stay alive was right there… and yet just out of his reach. “Weapons that will help steer the world back on course with the balance of power in out hands. The right hands.”

The man opened something that was out of Tonys sight, and then closed it with a click, hiding the light of the reactor from him. “I wish you could see my prototype. It not as — well, not as conservative as yours. Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would’ve preferred that she lived.”

 _No. No, no, no, no, no._ This _couldn’t_ be happening. Obadiahs footsteps were fading away, and he couldn’t move. Stane was going to kill Pepper. He was going to die, and he wouldn’t be able to stop Stane, and Pepper and the innocent, unborn twins were going to get hurt.

 _Fuck_.

The second he started to regain feeling in his feet, he dragged himself over to the lift, throwing himself into it and stuttering for Jarvis to send him down to the shop.

The door slid open cooly, and he stumbled out, opening the door to the workshop. He stared across the room, to the glass box holding his old reactor — the one that Pepper had gotten engraved for him.

Tony fell to the ground as he attempted to walk towards it. His heart was drumming in his ears, and his thoughts were a mantra of _stop Stane, save Pepper, save kids. Stop Stane, save Pepper, save kids._

He pulled himself across the ground, trying desperately to get to the device.

He reached the table, and tried to grab it in despair, but only managed to knock it away from him. Tony slumped onto floor, finally giving up. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t get up, he couldn’t save himself, or Pepper, or the kids, or anyone.

He was saved by the whirring of DUM-E, and looked up hazily to see the glass case in the bots’ claw. Tony grabbed it thankfully, staring at the bot in awe. “Good boy.” He murmured, smashing it onto the ground next to him.

He could still stop Stane. He could still save Pepper. He could still meet his children.

He just had to be quick.

Tony could barely move again, though, when Rhodey sprinted into the workshop, calling his name. His best friend crouched next to him, “Tony are you okay?”

“Where’s Pepper?” He asked breathlessly, letting Rhodey grab his arm, and help him sit up.

“She’s fine.” Rhodey assured him — that didn’t calm him, though. “She’s with five agents, they’re about to arrest Obadiah.”

“That's not gonna be enough.” He muttered.

Rhodey passed him the device from the ground next to him, and he reattached it awkwardly — his hands were too big. He felt his heart return to normal, and sighed in relief.

Now, he just had to go save Pepper.

_Piece of cake._

_**JULY 23, 2010, 10:17 AM — TONY STARKS MANSION, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

Pepper was very good at hiding her pregnancy; Tony knew that much. 

The only times that she didn't hide her now very large stomach were when she was alone with those that knew **_—_** which, so far, was just him and May, Ben and Rhodey. 

They had told Rhodey after everything that happened with Stane at the factory. Pepper had almost died, Tony had almost died, he had been fretting over her way too much to be considered normal, and his best friend had found out. 

He was glad for it, though. Rhodey had been his best friend since he was fifteen, and he deserved to know that Tony and Pepper were going to have a kid together. _Kids, multiple._ They were gonna have _twins._

Tony was still finding it hard to believe, no matter how very, _extremely_ real it was becoming.

Pepper was sitting on the white sofa overlooking the ocean, rifling through baby magazines, her baby bump perfectly obvious as she sat in her pyjamas. 

Tony thought she looked beautiful. 

Pepper had disagreed with him every time he said it, but her was adamant that he was right. 

He had always thought that people saying women were radiant and glowing, and... everything, while pregnant were being ridiculous — boy was he wrong. Because Pepper, who he was _dating_ and _expecting children_ with, _was_ glowing. She _was_ radiant. And he told her that every chance he got.

Tony sat on the steps across from her, two disassembled cribs on the floor in front of him. He had been working on them for more than a month, and was only now putting them back together. They had started out completely ordinary — which, Tony hated to admit, had taken a lot longer than expected to assemble the first time — and now included just about every feature, safety, entertainment or otherwise, imaginable.

"Do you think we have enough bibs?" Pepper asked, still flicking through the magazine. 

Tony laughed a bit as he began to reassemble the first crib. "Pep, we have _too many_ bibs. We are drowning in bibs. J, show me a catalog of all out bibs, please."

"Of course, sir." A blue-tinted hologram appeared in front of him, and he began to swipe through the lists of types of bibs.

"Look at this; we got blue bibs, we got pink bibs, we have yellow bibs — hell, we even have unicorn bibs. And shark bibs. And giraffe bibs — I don't think we could physically have more bibs."

Pepper leaned back, sinking further into the couch. "If one of them's a girl, we should name her after May."

Tony looked up as she said that, putting down the pieces of the second crib. "Really? After May?"

"Why wouldn't we name a girl after May; you've already said that's your family tradition. Name the girls after their Aunts, boys after their Uncles."

"Yeah, but you also have a sister. Ginger — wouldn't you want to name a girl after her?"

Pepper laughed, but kept looking through her magazine. She placed a hand on her stomach gently. "Making her middle name Gianetta would not help her in any way — at all. It sure as hell didn't help Ginger... plus, we haven't spoken in... a bit."

Tony knew that. Peppers sister was a tough topic for her. From what little she had told him, they had a fight, and hadn't spoken since 2006 — and their fight had caused Pepper to become rather separated from the entirety of her family.

He smiled despite himself. May would love that. "And a boy?" He lifted an eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes behind her magazine. 

"James. Or Ben. Or both, if it's two boys." She said matter of factly. "If its two girls, the second can be after Gianetta."

"Seems fair." Tony agreed — he was half way through the second crib. The one for baby number two. "Maybe not finding the genders wasn't a great idea."

Pepper set her magazine down on the couch next to her, and put her second hand on her bump with the first. She smiled, and Tony felt an unimaginable amount of love for her. "Eh, I want to see if the whole 'mothers intuition', 'i'll know what they will be without confirmation' thing." Peppers smile became even brighter, if that was even possible. " _I_ think its a boy and a girl."

Tony shrugged, and kept putting together the final pieces of the cribs, and adding the additional feature. "I can't really know, Pep. I don't know what they'll be."

Pepper smirked. "My bet's on a boy and a girl. Middle names can be May and James. _Boy and a girl."_

"Whatever you say, darling." Tony laughed. "Whatever it is, they will be amazing."

"That they will." She agreed. "They'll be awesome." 

**_AUGUST 10, 2010, 2:13 AM — MALIBU PRIVATE HOSPITAL, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA._ **

“It’s a girl.” The midwife said finally, and Pepper let out a relieved sigh.

“Its a girl.” Tony murmured, his hand squeezing hers tightly. “A boy and a girl. You were right!"

Pepper felt tears of joy coming to her eyes, and she sighed in relief. “Is it over?” She asked breathlessly, looking towards May, who was holding her other hand.

May grinned, and nodded. “Its over, Pep. A boy and a girl.”

Pepper let out an overjoyed sob, and finally released Tony and Mays hands. “Holy _shit_.” She muttered, staring at her reddened hands. She had been desperately holding onto Tony and May since she started labour, and god, did that hurt. “Holy shit, that was a long thirteen hours.”

“Thirteen and a _half_.” Tony corrected with a smile, wincing slightly as he rubbed his own reddened hand. “You are a _Fucking legend.”_

“Tony!” May hissed, slapping his hand across Pepper. “Young ears are here! _No_ _fucking_ swearing!”

Pepper let out a breathy laugh at their arguing, and looked at the midwife. “Can I see them?” She asked quietly, holding a hand out toward the cribs that her babies had been placed in.

The midwife had been payed _a lot_ to keep everything about _this_ quiet, and had been hit with a bunch of non disclosure agreements. Chances were she would be too scared to even _think_ about screwing them over. 

The midwife nodded, and she picked up one of the babies — the one in the blue blanket — and handed the child to her. “This is your son, Miss Potts.”

Tears flowed down Peppers cheeks as she held her son close, and looked into his tiny face. He was asleep, his mouth open slightly as he breathed in and out, a tiny amount of dark hair visible on the top of his head.

The midwife was holding the second bundle, now, and Pepper shifted her son into just one arm, reaching out for the second baby. “Your daughter.” The young woman said, giving her the little girl.

She was asleep, just like her brother. The same patch of dark hair on top of her head. If Pepper wasn’t completely aware that they were fraternal, and if they weren’t a son and a daughter, she would think they were identical — they looked so similar like that, both calmly sleeping.

“Peter and Morgan?” Tony asked, staring at thethree of them lovingly.

They had been brainstorming names a lot in the last few months, and Peter and Morgan had been their favourites— Peter and Morgan for Either a boy and a girl, or two boys, or Morgan and Piper for two girls. 

“Peter and Morgan.” Pepper confirmed, looking between the two of them with so much love filling her that she felt as though she was going to implode.

There was a knock on the door, making her, Tony and May all turn toward it.

“That’ll be Ben and Rhodey.” May exclaimed, rushing up to open the door. She was right; as soon as the door opened, Ben and Rhodey entered, Ben holding a big bouquet of flowers, and Rhodey holding two little stuffed bunnies.

“Congratulations!” Rhodey exclaimed, as Ben leant across to kiss May. “I hear I have a Niece and a Nephew.”

“That's right!” Pepper said, looking up from the twins to Rhodey, Ben and May. “Morgan May Stark, and Peter James Stark.”

Tony grinned beside her, and May laughed. “God,” She chuckled. “She’s even got my old initials — _MMS_. I promise I will teach those kids to give you _so much_ shit, I swear on my soul, they will give you hell.”

“Ha-ha.” Tony laughed. “You will not taint these kids with your evilness May. Not on my watch.”

Pepper scoffed, and looked back to Tony, who was looking at their kids with such intensity that she half expected his eyes to pop out. “You wanna hold one?” She asked softly, and he nodded, his eyes glassy from his own tears.

He reached forward, and picked up Peter gently. She watched the tears roll down his face as he looked their son, and smiled. “We did it, Tony.” She whispered, cradling Morgan closer.

“No, Pep.” He looked up from Peter, eyes filled with emotion. “ _You_ did it.”

**_MAY 29, 2011, 1:22 PM — TONY STARKS’ MANSION, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA._ **

“ _God_ , I’m so sorry.” Tony looked down at the two nine months olds sitting on their baby mat in front of him.

A part of him hated how much the twins got from him — it was always going to happen; Peppers blonde hair and blue eyes would always lose the genetic battle to his own darker features. Facially, they looked more like her; Peter especially.

They both had his eyes, but they both had Peppers’ cheekbones, and her face shape. Peter had her nose, but Morgan had his. Morgan and Peter both inherited her strawberry allergy, though. Apparently.

Tony watched them intently. Peter was babbling nonsense, poking his sisters cheeks with his face screwed up in irritation. Morgan was attempting to bat his hand away, her tongue poked out in concentration. Tony laughed at their antics, then frowned.

His blood toxicity was at _sixty-four_ percent. He would be dead within the year.

He would probably die before his kids turned one. He would never get to see them start kindergarten. See them graduate high school. Go to college. Fall in love. Go through their rebellious phases…

It was real this time. It was worse than Afghanistan. Worse than when Obie ripped his heart out. Worse than when the factory exploded around him.

Because this time, he had time to think about it. He knew it was coming; and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He made Pepper CEO — god, that was a good decision, she was already so much better at it than he was.

Somehow, he would get the War Machine suit to Rhodey. Rhodey was in the Air Force. He had military training. He could take over from Tony easy enough.

Tony would owe May forever. She was the only person that had been there forever, since his literal birth. He couldn’t give her anything, there was no way she could get her to forgive him for this.

But she would move on.

The kids… he sighed. The kids would have to be okay without him — his dad was barely there, and he was… fine. He turned out fine. He was totally fine.

Pepper was an amazing mom. They would be fine with just her. It would be okay.

His birthday party was tonight, and he knew it was a mistake. May would be over in about fifteen minutes, to pick the twins up — she and Ben were looking after them for the next few days.

He knew he was gonna fuck tonight up. He already knew it. He was dying, he was battling an alcohol addiction, and he was pretty emotionally unstable at the moment.

Morgan finally got her way in pushing Peter away, and rolled awkwardly toward Tony. “Dada?” She asked with a grin, crawling over to where he was sitting cross-legged, next to the mat.

“Mo-mo.” He murmured back, picking her up and holding her close, kissing her tiny cheek softly. “You okay, little Miss?”

“Dada!” Peters voice said, irritated. Tony looked down to see his son pouting next to him.

He laughed, placing Morgan back down, and picking Peter up instead. “You jealous, Pete?” He asked, kissing Peter on the cheek as well.

Morgan started babbling next to him, and Tony set Peter back down next to her. “You have fun, guys.” He whispered, standing up as he heard May walk in. “Love you — hi May, love you, have fun with the little demons, bye.”

He had to try make this right.

_For his kids._

He still knew he was going to fuck up tonight, though. Fuck his dumb ass thirty sixth birthday. 

**_MAY 31, 2010, 10:12 PM — MAY AND BEN PARKERS APARTMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

"I'm still mad at you, by the way." Pepper muttered into the kiss she was sharing with Tony. The Expo had been a disaster **_—_** fault of Justin Hammer, whos' drones only worked because he had broken Ivan Vanko, a _criminal_ who tried to _kill Tony,_ out of _prison_ just to help him make them.

Tony pulled away slightly, and looked straight into her eyes, grabbing her hands gently. "And you should be. You were right, the party was a mistake, and I fucked up, and I'm sorry that I destroyed our house, and I--"

" ** _—_** that's not why I'm mad, Tony." She cut across him. "You didn't tell me that you were _dying._ You were _dying,_ and you didn't tell anyone! Did you not think, even once, that _maybe_ you should have tried to talk to me, or to May, or Rhodey, or even Happy, about this?"

"I knew what I was doing, Pep. I had it sorted..." Tony tried, but she cut across him again.

"You were accepting your death! You pushed everyone away **_—_** you let Rhodey take the War Machine suit and you made me CEO, then pushed us both away, you sent the kids to stay with May, and said your goodbyes to all of them! All of _us!_ _Tony!"_

 _"_ I'm _sorry_." He murmured, stealing a glance across the hall from their guest room at Mays place, to the room the twins were staying in. "I am so sorry, Pep. I was just doing what I had to do, okay? I _was_ dying, and I _had_ tried everything, and I just **_—_** I didn't want any of you to have to watch me die for real... but i'm okay now — I synthesised a new element, and this one won't poison my blood if it's in the arc reactor, and I — Im really sorry."

"You really should be." Pepper said half angrily, giving him another soft kiss. "I told you last year, I'm not going to watch you kill yourself, and I meant it, honey. You can't pull something like this again. No more putting yourself _directly in harms way,_ okay?"

"Okay."

"You have to promise, Tony. You can't keep doing this."

"I promise, Pep. It won't happen again."

_**MAY 04, 2012, 1:16 PM — ABOVE STARK TOWER, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

Tony was flying directly into the wormhole that had opened above his brand new tower. Into space. Into imminent death.

Pepper would be so mad at him if by some stroke of luck he managed to survive this.

Chances are he wouldn’t, though. Whether or not that was him dodging a bullet (the bullet being Peppers wrath), or just grabbing the gun and shooting himself in the head by doing this, he wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t have time for that right now.

 _“Call to Maybelle The Angry Italian Tomato Farmer could not connect.”_ JARVIS informed him, and he felt a new flutter of terror shoot through his heart.

He couldn’t say goodbye to his sister.

“Call — call Pepper. Call Pepper, J.” He said quickly, trying not to dwell on that horrifying fact for too long.

Tony entered the void of space, fear coursing though his veins as he struggled to breathe. This was it.

 _“Sir, Pep-p—”_ JARVIS’ voice in his headset faded, and Tony let out a soft sob, squeezing his eyes shut as he continued to fly straight upwards. Upwards. Upwards.

He glanced down, back at the wormhole.

He was far enough away now; he could let go of the nuke, and it would hit the alien ships surrounding him rather than New York — so he did. He let go.

It continued toward the ships, but Tony closed his eyes before he could see it hit them.

He was going to die; his suit had no power, and if his new teammates were stupid enough to leave the portal open long enough for him to get back through, he would just fall to his death. The only difference between the portal staying open and closing, for him, was where his dead body would lay. Either floating indefinitely through space, or squashed into some Manhattan sidewalk.

He felt tears falling down his cheeks. He couldn’t say goodbye to his sister; the person he knew would always be there for him. To Pepper, the love of his life. To Rhodey and Happy, his best friends, brothers, almost.

To his kids. Morgan and Peter. The best thing that ever happened to him. Lights of his life.

He let out another choked sob, and then breathed out deeply.

Tony fell.

_**JULY 15, 2012, 3:28 PM — TONY STARKS' MANSION, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA.** _

Things between him and Pepper had been tense since the — since what happened in May.

The Chitauri Invasion. Loki. The shit show that officially created the Avengers team.

He had promised Pepper that he wouldn't put himself directly in the line of fire again; and he wouldn't almost kill himself again... and he did exactly that.

She had, understandably, been terrified, and angry, and had way too many things to yell at him when he came home after the battle.

The tension was beginning to ebb, thankfully, and she was starting to be less mad at him — she had started sleeping in his bed again, which was a huge relief. Sleeping, a now near-impossible task, was easier when she was there with him.

He smiled at her, and squeezed her hand gently. The twins were walking around pretty damn well now, and so chasing one another around in the grass in their large yard was seemingly an easy affair for them now.

Pepper smiled back tentatively, squeezing his hand in return. Reassuring him. Things would work themselves out.

**_MARCH 06, 2013, 11:54 PM — PEPPER POTTS' TOWNHOUSE, MALIBU, CALIFORNIA._ **

She and Tony were fighting.

It wasn’t the first time, but Pepper had a feeling that it might be the last time.

She was making sure it was the last time.

Morgan and Peter were a secret to the world — only a very select few knew of their existence; her and Tony, of course, Rhodey and Happy, Ben and May, and Natasha. That was it. Seven people knew of their existence.

Pepper and Tony had been through their fair share of arguments — that as inevitable, after a decade of working for him, and two years of dating him.

But she knew something bad was going to happen. This had to stop — their relationship wasn’t healthy. Tony risked too much, too often; Afghanistan, Obadiah, Palladium Poisoning, the Expo in 2011, New York, the Mandarin… it was getting ridiculous.

She loved him — she really did… but she couldn’t keep going like this. He had destroyed his suits on Christmas, only to start rebuilding a couple of weeks later.

He had gotten rid of the Extremis running through her, but she knew that wasn’t enough.

Before the twins were born, she had told him that she wasn’t going to watch him kill himself. After the Expo Incident, she had said the same thing. And after New York. She had meant it every time she said it.

She had watched him almost do so too many times, and she wasn’t planning on watching when he finally did it.

Tony was across from her, his head in his hands. She knew he wouldn’t want to do this… she didn’t want to either. But she had to.

They were breaking up.

“It doesn’t have to be messy.” She assured him softly, making him look up. His eyes were reddened from crying, and his hair was a mess. “We don’t have to see each other. We only have to see each other at work. It won’t be complicated.”

“It will be complicated, Pep, and you know it.” Tony said, desperation in his voice. “We have _kids!_ Kids that _no-one_ knows about! How do we un-complicate that?”

Pepper sighed. “We have three options with the kids if we want to keep them secret.” Tony raised one of his eyebrows, and she continued. “I take both of them —“

“— and I actually lose both of the kids in the divorce, which is worse than losing Hap and Nat in 2011 —

“— _you_ take both of them —“

“— which you and I both know you will never agree to—“

“—or we take one each.”

Tony blinked at her once. Twice. Three times. She sighed.

“We can’t stay together, Tony. I won’t watch you continue this. We can’t go through custody arrangements, because if anyone outside of May, Ben, Happy, Nat and Rhodey know, they’ll be targeted, and they’ll suffer. I know it’s a terrible thing to do, but it’s the best plausible option.”

Tony sighed. “Fine. Whatever. I hate this, but fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

“I’m really sorry, Tony.” Pepper sighed. But this is the only way.

“Fine.”

“I hate this just as much as you.”

“I know you do.” He said softly, and she knew that he really did know.

Pepper looked down, and groaned. “So, how to we sort this.”

Tony just shrugged.

“Look, Tony, we have to do this, but… Im not choosing. I love them both so much, and Im not choosing.”

Tony gripped his right hand tightly, and stared at her. “Whats the most logical option?”

“I guess… I guess I should take Mo, and you should take Pete?”

“I guess so — that seems like the smartest way to do this.”

“Okay — im sorry, Tony.”

“I am too.” Tony said blandly. “So, clean cut, kids don’t know about each other, or their other parent, that sorta deal?”

“Thats the only way this will work.” Pepper said. She was aware that there were heavy tears falling from her eyes, but she had to do this.

“Okay.” Tony stood up, his own cheeks glistening, and wiped his hands off on his pants. “Okay. Pete and I can be gone by morning — just know, Pep… I love you. I will _always_ love you.”

Pepper pursed her lips in a terrible attempt to stop her tears. “I love you too, Tony.” He looked at her hopefully, and she sighed. “And that’s why we need to do this.”

Tony nodded solemnly, and left the room.

They parted ways for the last time that night, Tony taking Peter back to New York with him, openly crying. Pepper watched him leaving from Morgan bedroom window, sobbing into her two and a half year old daughters hair.

_This was goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay the next chapter will exist soon... LOVE YALL GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP BECAUSE IK YOU NEED TO DO THAT :)


	2. PART ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter twooooo!!! This was meant to be up earlier (SoRrY) but i have gotten sickness and literally slept for 18 hours straight yesterday so yeah...
> 
> Just for reference ig because ive obviously fucked up marvels already fucked up timeline and characters and stuff;
> 
> -Tony was born in 1975 not 1970, so he was 35 when morgan and peter were born rather than 40, and so his parents died in 1996 instead, when he was 21  
> -after the breakup tony and peter moved to NYC to be closer to avengers stuff, and Pepper and morgan stayed in LA, closer to SI stuff  
> -AOU and CACW still happened in 2015 and 2016, CACW just didnt have spidermans involvement  
> -The rogues were pardoned in 2018, and met 8 year old Peter accidentally (Steve may have freaked out about the fact that he almost made a five year old an orphan but lets not dwell on that)  
> -Pepper has a younger sister who they nickname Ginger, and Ginger has two daughters  
> -Peppers aunt is (somehow) Gwen Stacy (pls dont ask)
> 
> Also its technically 2025 but everyone acts like its 2020 (with like humour and music and stuff) and thanos wasnt a thing that happened.

* * *

**TWELVE YEARS LATER**

* * *

_**MARCH 17, 2025, 6:07 AM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

Loud music filled Morgan Potts’s ears as she pushed her glasses up her nose, and considered the canvas sitting on the easel in front of her.

She wasn’t sure where her natural affinity to music by bands like AC/DC and Queen came from, but the it always calmed her — brought upon a sense of nostalgia, letting her recall a time that she could barely remember, when a man would sing softly to her in another language, playing the piano with her on his lap.

Her father.

She could barely remember her dad, and her mom never talked about him. He was gone — he had been since before she turned three. Whether that was because he had left, or died, or something else entirely, she had no idea.

Morgan’s memories of her dad were hazy and distant; gentle singing in what she had figured out was Italian, the sweet sound of piano music, a soft blue glow, the smell of coffee and motor oil.

His absence in her life had never really been an issue for her. Morgan’s memories of him were few and bittersweet, a reminder of a far away time that she felt very much detached from. Her mom had always told her that he loved her, no matter what, and she was perfectly happy with that being all she knew about her father. She did wonder about him, sometimes, but just her mom was enough for her. That’s how it had been as long as she could remember, and that was basically all she knew.

Plus, it was pretty hard to miss someone she didn’t know. She had concluded a long time ago that it was the idea of having a dad that she missed, more than her dad himself.

She wasn’t in denial about her absent (maybe dead?) father. The sick ache that she felt every fathers day, whenever her best friend Maddie talked about her dad, and. when she saw kids just spending time with their fathers, totally wasn’t because she wished she had one of her own.

Nope. She had her Uncle Happy, and her Grandad — and she didn’t need (or want) any more than that.

Her mom would probably be annoyed when she woke up. She hated it when Morgan stayed up all night painting. A bad habit that she couldn’t seem to shake, tied with a very time consuming hobby — generally ended in her mothers great irritation.

It was a pretty common occurrence — Morgan was a night owl, and usually just got carried away with whatever she was doing, especially painting, not realising the time until the very early hours of the morning. She had found it happening more often lately, since she had so much on her mind — a coping mechanism, of sorts. And a bad one at that.

Her mom thought it was a bad coping mechanism too. She always found out, and she was always mad.

The song playing into Morgan’s headphones changed, and she sighed. My Happiness by Powderfinger. Typical.

Her early onset love of AC/DC had led to a bit of an obsession with old Australian artists, Powderfinger being one of them... and since she and her mom had moved to New York, this song had just hit differently.

She didn’t feel at home here. Everything just felt way too New York. It wasn’t Malibu, where she had lived her whole life. The city felt too cold and unwelcoming — everything was too uniform.

The song used to make her think of her dream of her dad coming home; that he would show up with a suitcase one day, say _“I never should have left you and Morgan, Pepper, I’m sorry”_ and that every problem she had would be gone. Now, she just felt homesick listening to it; she felt like she couldn’t be happy unless she was home.

Morgan stared up at her painting. She had barely finished the undercoat, but even in the desaturated yellow that would soon be covered by colour, she could feel the strong longing that she felt whenever she thought of Malibu.

It was based on the living room in the townhouse they used to live in — the white couches, the dark wood floors, the view of palm trees and the beach through the large windows... it felt so entirely like home that it almost hurt her to look at it.

“My happiness, is slowly creeping back, now you’re at home…. If it ever —” She murmured along with the song as she started to clean her brushes and wrap up her palette. “— starts sinking in, it must be when you pack up, and go...”

They had been there a month — four weeks to settle into their new penthouse, four weeks to become familiar with the city around them.

Four weeks before Morgan had to restart school.

And now it was the day that she had been dreading all year. Today, she was starting at her new school.

Spring break had just ended, so it would be the first day for everyone — except that everyone else had started at the school last September. They would all already know everyone, and have friends and... she wouldn’t.

Everyone else would be going back to the school they’d been at since September, with people that they had probably known since middle school (or earlier), with their real names, and their real lives, just living as themselves.

Morgan would be going to a school she had never been inside before, with kids she had never even come close to meeting in California, with her cover name — Morgan Stacy, the same as her great Aunt Gwenevere — and her fake life; the life in which she really was Morgan May Stacy, daughter of Virginia ‘Ginny’ Stacy, and not Morgan May Potts, daughter of Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts, one of Forbes ‘ _Most Powerful Woman in Business_ ’ since 2012.

Yeah, being the secret daughter of a world famous businesswoman, one of the most influential people in America, was great fun.

It wasn’t that people didn’t know that she existed — the media (the world) knew that Pepper Potts had a daughter — they just didn’t know her name, or what she looked like, or how old she was… any of it. That, she had always been told, was because she was born before her mom became CEO of Stark Industries, and so people either didn’t notice or didn’t care about her moms pregnancy, or her birth. Her mom had decided it best that Morgan keep her anonymity as she grew up…

After all, people connected to the CEOs of SI always seemed to get targeted, or meet a pretty sticky end; Howard and Maria Stark died fairly young, in a freak accident, Tony Stark was kidnapped, and presumably tortured, Obadiah Stane had been in a plane crash, though there had always been suspicions about that being a cover up… Even her Uncle Happy had been targeted during the Mandarin disaster, while trying to protect her mom, and then, that same week, her mom had been kidnapped by the Mandarin himself.

So, long story short, the job of Stark Industries CEO was one-hundred-percent cursed, and her mom didn’t want her caught up in that. Morgan understood — she didn’t exactly enjoy it, but she could understand her mothers reasoning.

There were only a very select few that knew that Morgan Stacy was actually Morgan Potts — her mom, obviously, her grandad, great Aunt Gwenevere, her cousins, Violet and Delilah (and their parents, Gianetta, her moms sister, and her husband Carson Hartley), Uncle Happy, her moms assistant (slash Morgans unofficial babysitter) Azmariah Williams, and her best friend Maddie Davis, from her school back in California. Maddie’s parents also knew, as a formality, mainly — and also because Maddie was underage and needed parental consent to sign a non-disclosure agreement.

Maddie and her parents, as well as Azmariah, were given pretty extreme background checks before they were allowed to know who Morgan really was. Azzy, being an assistant, had to work for her mom for four years before she was allowed to meet Morgan. The Davis’ were a bit different, because they had known her as Morgan Stacy for two years, before her mom decided that she should definitely have a friend in her corner who knew her real identity.

God, she missed Maddie.

She wouldn’t have a friend in her corner anymore, though. No-one at her new school knew that she was Pepper Potts’ daughter, and no-one would know for at least two years.

Morgan was going to Midtown School of Science and Technology. Midtown Tech. The most prestigious STEM school in New York City.

Blah, blah, blah.

She wasn’t exactly excited.

Morgan took her canvas off the easel, and propped it up against the wall opposite her window, next to the newly finished painting of her great Aunt, intending for it to dry while she was at stupid school.

She turned back around as the door to her bedroom opened, and her moms unimpressed form filled her vision.

Shit — she’d been caught.

It wasn’t exactly surprising, but being caught red handed doing the thing that her mom hated the most always sucked, no matter how often it happened.

“Morning mom!” She exclaimed, feigning innocence. She knew by now that it wouldn’t work, but it was better to pretend than to do nothing. “How’d you sleep?”

Her mom frowned, and looked torn between being mad and being concerned, like she always did when she caught Morgan packing up from painting at the crack of dawn. “Well, I _went_ to sleep.” She said with a sigh. “Which I can tell you definitely didn’t do.”

Morgan screwed up her face to try stop tears from filling her eyes, and sat down on the corner of her bed. “I’m sorry, mom.” She murmured, looking over her moms shoulder to avoid eye contact. “I just — I was really nervous, about school, and I — I needed something else to concentrate on, and some time to think, and so I started painting, and I just got carried away…” She could feel the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but blinked them away.

“Oh, sweetie.” Her mom said softly, sitting on the bed next to her tentatively. “Its going to be fine, I promise. Everyone will love you, and you’ll make heaps of friends, and soon enough you’ll be ditching your boring old mom to go do… whatever it is you teenagers do now.”

She let out a soft laugh, and leant her head on her moms shoulder. Her mom stroked a hand through her hair, and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “I miss Maddie.” She said quietly, letting a tear — only one tear — slip from her eye.

“I know, Morgs. I know this move hasn’t been easy for you, but… you know we had to for work.”

“I know, mom. It just won’t be the same going to school without her.” She shifted on her moms shoulder slightly, and changed the subject. “I finished my painting of Aunt Gwen.”

“Did you?” Her mom smiled down at her, chuckling quietly. “I don’t want to be validating the fact that you didn’t sleep the night before your first day at your new school, but good job.”

Morgan laughed, and sat up fully. “How long do I have to leave for school in?”

Her mom smiled, and stood up, flattening out her messed up pyjama shirt. “We don’t have to leave until eight. Happy’s got the morning off, so im dropping you off — plus, its the first day, so I was going to take you anyway.”

She smiled at her mom. “Alright — i’ll be ready on time, I promise!”

“You and I both know that you’ll find a way to make us late.” Her mom laughed. “Pancakes will be ready in twenty minutes; be out by then.” She closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Morgan sitting alone on the bed.

She wasn’t sure why, but she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach — one that told her that someone was going to figure out who she was, despite her moms best efforts.

The feeling was probably ridiculous. Probably nothing.

No-one had ever questioned that she could be the daughter of Pepper Potts before, and they didn’t really have any reason to — because despite having the same facial structure as her mom, the same ears, and nose, and mouth, she had different eyes. As far as she could tell, they had to be from her dads side of the family, as well as the curly hair gene. The fact that she had curly brown hair, unlike her moms straight blonde hair, and brown eyes, unlike her moms blue, made people look over the resemblance between the two — it helped her keep her anonymity a lot, because the media always speculated that she would be blonde and blue eyed, like her mom.

But going over that fact in her head didn’t shake the feeling that someone would know. That something would happen.

It was quite a horrible feeling, really. Like a sense of impending doom, telling her that something much bigger than starting at a new school would happen when she walked into Midtown Tech later that morning.

She could only hope that the gut feeling she had would be wrong.

_**MARCH 17, 2025, 7:14 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

“Pete! Wake up! If you sleep any longer you’re gonna be late!”

Peter Stark groaned, and grabbed his left shoulder in pain. “Yeah, dad, i’ll be out in a sec!” He yelled back to his father, as he sat up in bed, wincing in pain.

Great. It was the first day back after spring break.

Usually, that would be fine. Peter actually liked school, and learning, and the routine that it brought him… he just wasn’t up for it today.

He couldn’t have slept more than three hours — which, admittedly, wasn’t that unusual for him. Peter had been single handedly raised by Tony Stark, who was just as much of a coffee addicted insomniac as he was.

His dad had never really been one for ‘bed times’ and sleep schedules — well, that wasn’t completely true, but since Peter was about ten, his dad had let him stay up late in the workshop with him; helping build things for Stark Industries and weapons for the Avengers, fixing Iron Man suits and updating his Uncle Rhodeys’ leg braces.

What was different about today was the fact that he had a gunshot wound in his shoulder. A gunshot wound in his shoulder that his dad didn’t know about.

Becoming Spider-Man two months ago probably hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had, but it was necessary. He got bitten by a spider on a field trip to a biomechanics company, then was sick for three days, and then, boom! No more blindness, no more sickness, psychotic spider-like powers. From then, Peter hadn’t needed much convincing to become a (and he really hated to say it) vigilante.

He had watched his dad risk his life to save others countless times, and lived with the constant question of ‘ _will he come home from this mission?_ ’ He had watched his Uncle bleed out from a gunshot wound when he was a helpless twelve year old, and his other Uncle have to change his entire lifestyle after becoming paralysed from the waist down. He was doing this for them — to follow in his dads footsteps, and hopefully protect him someday, to honour Uncle Bens’ memory, and make him proud. To stop Uncle Rhodey from having another accident, and fight by his side. To make sure the ordinary people around him wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of others.

Because he had these powers now — these super powers — and he had the power and the responsibility (as Ben would say) to stop the bad things from happening. Peter had figured out pretty early into the whole vigilante gig that if something happened to someone, and he could have stopped it, but didn’t, that it would be on him.

And he really didn’t want that on his conscience.

Which led to the early hours of this morning. Spider-man was stopping a couple of creeps from attacking a group of young women that were walking home from a bar, and gotten shot in the process. The ladies he was helping were fine, but he sure as hell want.

There was a reason Spider-man stuck to Queens, closer to his Aunts’ apartment than where he lived in Greenwich village. His dad had always been super overprotective, and if he knew that Peter was Spider-man, he would absolutely flip — so Peter hadn’t told anyone, and that worked out fine for him most of the time.

It didn’t really work out when he was injured and needed to dig a bullet out of his shoulder, though. Luckily, Spider-mans main operating area being Queens did help at times like last night, because it was pretty easy for him to sneak to Aunt Mays’, dig the bullet out, patch himself up, and then get home before it got light.

That was exactly what he had done last night, and god, half healed gunshot wounds were painful.

His super healing could only do so much for more major wounds, like when he was shot or stabbed, or broke a bone. Minor injuries would be gone in a matter of minutes, major ones in days.

Peter was expecting this one to take three or four days to heal completely, which was a bit of a drag. It was obviously way faster than a normal persons’ healing process, and wouldn’t leave a scar, but it would mean that he had to skip tonights patrol.

Which might not be the worst thing at the moment, because his dad had obviously been informed about the fact that he was sneaking out (thanks to FRIDAY, the traitor), and Peter may or may not have overheard a conversation between his dad and his Uncle Rhodey about the likelihood of his sneaking out being to go party and drink and do drugs.

In reality, the likelihood was zero, because he had seen his had fighting against alcoholism when he was younger, and that alone made him completely terrified of drugs and alcohol.

He just hoped that his dad knew that.

“Can you chuck me on a coffee please, dad?” He called from his room, as he stood shakily, his head aching slightly as he did so.

“Sure, kid!” His dad called back. “Im making omelettes, too, how many do you want?”

Peter groaned.

That was another thing that his spider bite gave him — a fast metabolism. It wasn’t too bad, nowhere near as fast as his dads… colleague, Steve Rogers’. But he still had to eat two extra meals a day so that he didn’t make his body start consuming itself.

Plus, the more he ate, the faster his injuries healed.

“Three!”

“Super hungry, are we?” His dad laughed. “Alright, three omelettes, ready in fifteen minutes, and then we’ve gotta get your ass to school!”

On a normal day, he wouldn’t have to be at school at quarter past eight, but he had been given the unfortunate task of having some new kid shadow him all day, though, so he had to be there fifteen minutes early to meet them, and make friends with them, and give them a little introduction to Midtown Tech.

Blah, blah, blah.

He felt bad for the new kid — starting half way through the school year. Couldn’t be fun.

Peter didn’t really think as he got dressed, throwing on jeans, and a checkered shirt with a grey sweatshirt over it, before joining his dad in the dining room for coffee.

His dad had been reluctant to let him start drinking coffee, but Peter had eventually convinced him that yes, he would be perfectly fine with caffeine, and no, he would not get addicted to it… that had been a tiny bit of a lie, because he was most definitely addicted — but he could blame that on his dad. Addiction was partially genetic, after all.

He hadn’t exactly had a typical upbringing — being raised by a single father (who was also the owner of one of the biggest tech companies in the world, _and_ a superhero), and he was technically a secret to the world.

People knew that Tony Stark had a son, but they knew absolutely nothing about him. They didn’t know his name, or how old he was, or what he looked like — really, all that the outside world knew about him was that he had been conceived before his dad got kidnapped in 2010. His dad said that by the time he was born, he had already been Iron Man, and if people knew that their was a mini-Stark around, he would have been targeted; hence the secret identity and whatnot.

Being a Stark would put a target on his head, for obvious reasons — his dad had been kidnapped because he was CEO of SI, and was now a superhero, meaning he had lots of enemies. On top of that, when he was six his dad had found out that Howard and Maria Stark, his grandparents, had actually been killed by the Winter Soldier ( _not_ Bucky Barnes. Winter Soldier and Bucky were two very different people, Peter had found).

Plus whatever happened to his mom.

He didn’t really know where she was, or what happened to her. His dad never talked about her, and no-one else did either, so whether she left, or died, or something else entirely, he didn’t know. Peters memories of her were vague and very few — a laugh, a kiss on the forehead, a softly sung lullaby.

Her absence in his life wasn’t really something he noticed. It just being his dad (plus his Aunts and Uncles) was all he could really remember, and so the idea of having a mom was very strange and very foreign to him — he had managed to convince himself that it was more the idea of a mom that he wished for, and less the faded memories of his actual mom. That the ache he felt during mothers day wasn’t there. That the few memories of her that he had didn’t make him upset, because he completely didn’t miss her.

He wasn’t in denial at all. Nope. May was the closest thing he had to a mom, and he didn’t need — or want — anything more than that.

May was really the only Stark that nobody had tried to murder. Her husband, Peters Uncle Ben,had been shot and killed two years ago, but that was by a mugger that Ben tried to apprehend while off duty, not someone with a personal vendetta against the Starks — plus, people tended to forget May Parker, previously Stark.

Hence why Peters’ cover name was Peter James Parker, son of Uncle Bens made up younger brother, and his nonexistent, dead wife, only related to the Stark family through the marriage of his Uncle to the older, forgotten Stark.

Basically, long story short, being a Stark was a bit of a curse, and dying naturally, as much as he hated to admit it, wasn’t really an option for them. Peter lived with the constant fear of his dad or his Aunt getting kidnapped, or killed — and the fact that it wasn’t an unlikely outcome didn’t help… nor did the amount of times he had watched his dad almost die; palladium poisoning, the Battle of New York and the Mandarin, though he could barely remember those, then Ultron and Sokovia, and Siberia, when Captain America almost killed his dad — and that was just the incidents _before he turned six_.

His fake identity as Peter Parker was probably part of the reason that he was dreading the arrival of the new kid.

Not many people knew that Peter Parker was Peter Stark. His family, so his dad, Aunt May, Uncle Happy, Uncle Rhodey, Nanna Robbie (Rhodeys mom), and Aunt Nat all knew, obviously — Uncle Ben and great Aunt Peggy used to be included in that, but they had both passed away.

Not even all of SHIELD knew who Tony Starks son was, courtesy of Nick Furys’ respect for secret children; actually, the only people outside of Nick Fury and Maria Hill that were connected to SHIELD that knew him were the Avengers (they had met him in 2018, soon after the resolution of the Sokovia Accords and their return to living at the Avengers Compound upstate).

At school, exactly two people knew who he really was. One was Cindy Moon, his oldest friend, who he had known since they were four. His dad had decided that she and her moms could know about the whole _‘Im secretly a Stark_ ’ thing after three years of childhood friendship. The other was Ned Leeds, his best, best friend, who he had known since second grade. Ned and his parents had gone through the same over the top NDA ordeal as Cindy and her moms had in fourth grade — and Ned, unfortunately, still thought that Peter being a Stark was the coolest thing ever.

As a consequence of his very hushed up real life, Peter had a bit of a fear of meeting new people. That was why being in charge of helping the new kid settle in wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like meeting them, as such, but more that his entire existence sometimes felt like is revolved around being wary of strangers — strangers that could possibly become close to him primarily for the purpose of emotional manipulation, to get close to him, and his family, and very likely fuck up their lives.

Call him paranoid — it was just how he had been raised.

Since the Spider bite, he had been a bit better with meeting new people, because one of his new abilities was a sort of danger sense, which helped him be able to sense hits coming before the came, and sense when people actually were shady and dangerous.

It was pretty helpful.

“I’m going upstate today for a little teem meeting, so I’m not gonna be able to pick you up from school. I probably won’t be back until later on.” His dad told him, putting three omelettes on a plate, and passing over to Peter. “Hap will pick you up, but I can still drop you off.”

“ _Dad_.” Peter rolled his eyes, digging into his breakfast. “I’ve _told_ you, I’m absolutely fine with getting the train to school; it would save you and Hap so much time, and —“

“Nu uh.” His dad interrupted, holding a hand up as he took the seat opposite Peter at the dining room table. “We’ve been over this, Pete, it’s too risky. And, anyway, Hap and I don’t mind”

“ _Happy_ seems to mind.” He grumbled, making his dad snort with laughter.

“You know he loves you deep down, he’s just —“

“I know, I know, Happy’s just a grumpy old man with heart issues that can’t deal with how much stress we put him under — but dad! Aunt _Nat_ is more outwardly affectionate than him… and she’s _Nat!_ I swear, ninety seven percent of the world think she doesn’t have emotions, and somehow she still manages to do it better than Happy!”

His dad laughed again, shaking his head as he ate his own omelette. “I’m telling him that — I’m telling Hap that he’s more emotionless than the Queen Of Emotionlessness Natasha Romonoff.”

“You do that, I’ll just tell Rhodey and May that you’re conspiring against me — they love me most.”

His dad raised a hand to his heart in mock horror, grasping dramatically. “Wow, betrayed by my own flesh and blood, my only son, light of my life, the —“

“ _Dad.”_ Peter interrupted, quickly eating the last of his third omelette. “It’s twenty-five to — hurry up, or you’ll make me late.”

“Yeah, yeah, calm down.” His dad muttered, finishing his own breakfast, and picking up the keys for his favourite ‘ _i’m-rich-but-not-super-rich_ ’ car. “Alright, come on, time for school and all that shit —“

“Language!” He exclaimed with a grin, bumping shoulders with his dad, despite the pain that short through him at moving his injury too much.

His dad laughed at him, and ruffled his hair affectionately. “You, mister, have been spending too much time with Nat. That joke died in 2015.”

“It will never die.” Peter said sincerely. They got into the car. “Its like vine — it’s been dead for years, but it lives on.”

His dad scoffed as they began to drive, and Peter rolled his eyes. “Hows Nats’ mission, by the way? Rhodey wouldn’t tell me anything when he was over yesterday.”

“She’s fine — they come back a week after that camp you’re going on.”

“She gonna come visit her favourite secret Nephew when she gets back?”

“Well, if you’re talking about Nathaniel, then probably, but —“

“I will fight Nathaniel for the position of her favourite nephew. And Cooper. I’m the favourite, full stop, end of story — I’m the only one she taught Russian!”

“Whatever you say.”

“ _Dad!”_

_**MARCH 17, 2025, 8:11 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY,QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

“Have fun, sweetie.” Morgans mom murmured into her hair as she hugged her goodbye. “And remember, Azzy will pick you up after school, because I’ve got a board of directors meeting, but I should be home by six.”

“Okay, mom. Love you!” She gave her mom one last smile, before getting out of the car — one that simply said ‘ _im rich_ ’, rather than ‘ _im one of the richest people in New York, even though half of my salary goes to charity, because my job is just that well paid’._

“Love you too!” Her mom called quickly as she shut the car door, and turned toward the school.

Midtown goddamn Tech.

Better than a girls school, at least — that would be where she would be if she wasn’t here, and Morgan could not stand that idea.

There were only a few people around — most of them older kids, pouring over textbooks in small groups on the grass. She could see a football team practicing on the oval, and a few teachers talking over coffee in the entrance to the school.

Morgan walked toward the teachers, and did her best to look casual. She tucked her hair behind her ears, and adjusted her glasses nervously. “Hi…” She said to them, probably looking completely lost. “I’m Morgan Stacy — I’m starting today? I’m not really sure what I’m meant to be doing right now, uh…”

One of the teachers, a tall man with brown hair, a beard, and oval shaped glasses, smiled at her. “Morgan Stacy, right… she’s being placed with Parker, isn’t she, Monica?” He asked the other teacher.

The other teacher, a stern looking woman with short, dark hair, nodded her head. “Yes, Parker’s showing her around today — his father said that he would be here by quarter past, in his e-mail.”

The first teacher turned more toward Morgan, smiling at her again. “I’m Mister Harrington, and this is Ms Warren. She teaches physics, I teach biology — i’m also the Decathlon coach, so if you’re interested, come talk to me about it.

Ms Warren looked slightly exasperated at Mister Harringtons’ introduction, but gave her a formal smile nonetheless. “Your file said that you’re moving here from California?” She asked.

Morgan wondered briefly if these two teachers had been waiting at the entrance for the arrival of her and this ‘Parker’ person, and confirmed it to herself when Ms Warren mentioned her file.

A brief panic hit her when she realised that they had been reading her file, learning about her, and waiting for her, and the question of ‘do they know who I really am?’ Ran through her head as a default — she shrugged the question off, though, because despite the lingering feeling deep down that somebody here was going to know, she felt like it wasn’t them.

Morgan gave a small, shy smile, and nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been here a month — just adjusting a stuff.”

“Thats quite a big move.” Mister Harrington commented. “Any reason for it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, trying to deduce whether he knew something, or was just trying to make friendly conversation. She decided on the latter, and nodded again. “Closer to my moms work — they moved their main facility from LA to here, so moving was just the most logical thing to do.” She shrugged.

“Thats —“ Ms Warren began, but she stopped talking when a black car with darkened windows — the ‘ _i’m just rich, not super rich_ ’ kind — pulled into the spot that her mom had been parked in a few minutes ago, and a tired looking kid stumbled out, saying something along the lines of“ _Bye dad, love you!_ ” to whoever was in the drivers seat, before slamming the door and running up to Morgan and the two teachers.

His backpack was slung over his right shoulder, his hand holding his left as he winced in pain. “Hey, Ms Warren! Mister Harrington!” He said, his voice sounding happy, unlike the pained look that he was badly attempting to hide. The kid turned to Morgan, and grinned at her. “You must be the new girl. Im Peter — Parker.”

“Morgan P — _Stacy_. I’m Morgan Stacy.” She gave a small, awkward wave, and her suspicion that something was going to happen re appeared.

Maybe this Peter Parker was going to find out about who she was; whether for good or bad — looking at him, he didn’t seem like an evil genius, but Morgan knew that first impressions, though important, weren’t always the correct impressions.

Something about Parker just seemed ridiculously familiar, though — which was dumb, because there was no way she could know him.

“We should go do our jobs.” Mister Harrington said suddenly, starting to back into the building with Ms Warren. “Ill see you at decathlon, Peter?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, sir.” Peter turned back to Morgan once the two teachers were out of sight. “So I heard you’re from Malibu?” He asked, somewhat awkwardly.

“Yeah.” Morgan answered shortly. “Moved across here a month ago.”

“Thats cool.” Peter said. His body langue was strained, and he was shading his eyes from the sun, despite it being quite overcast. _Weird_. “My dad and I used to live there, ages ago.”

That was interesting, Morgan decided. “Yeah?” She asked. “When’d y’all come to New York?”

Peter shrugged. “20… 13? Im pretty sure it was 2013 — it was before I turned three, so, _long_ , long time ago.”

Morgan gave a hum as a reply, and pointed to the school building. “Should we — ?”

“Right, yeah, yeah. Silly — I’m meant to be showing you around. Right!” He gave a small laugh. “I guess i’ll show you the office and the nurses office and the cafeteria before everyone starts getting here — do you have a time table?”

Morgan nodded, and pulled the paper from her backpack. “Here.” She passed it to him.

He took it, and raised one eyebrow at it as he read. “You’re taking Visual Arts?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” She immediately took the defence.

He laughed nervously. “No, no, ‘course not. I’m taking it too — it’s just — Science and Tech — we don’t usually get too many people taking that elective.”

Morgan felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the fact that she immediately assumed that he was judging her choice of art, but elected to ignore it. Peter didn’t mention it either.

“Are you going on the camp?” He asked suddenly, as they walked down the hallway. “The one in Boston?”

Morgan grimaced. “Yeah. Mom says I have to go — something about making friends and all that shit.”

Peter laughed, and Morgan couldn’t help but think that she had heard that laugh before. “Im going too — so’s my best friend Ned, and my friend Cindy — you would probably like Cindy… I mean, she can be a bit full on at times, but she’s fun.”

She gave him a small smile, and took note of just how stressed he looked. She didn’t bring it up, though, because they’d only just met, and trying to immediately get a read on his mental state wasn’t exactly something she felt she should be doing — no matter how intriguing she was beginning to find him.

Peter reminded her a bit of her older cousin, Violet — he didn’t look like her, or anything; Vi had red hair and blue eyes and was really, really tall... and it wasn’t about his personality, either, because Violet was not a science nerd and she seemed to have a personal vendetta against art — but she got the feeling that she had with her cousins (especially Vi); the feeling that she just really knew and understood this person and that they’d known each other forever.

It was a weird sensation, to feel so connected and close with someone that she knew nothing about — especially since having a fake identity made her very wary of new people. But something about Peter Parker just screamed safety. Understanding.

Peter Parker was an anomaly; and she was yet to figure him out.

Somehow, Morgan felt like she could trust him — and that soon enough, she might let him know who she really was.

But hey, maybe Midtown School of Science and Technology wouldn’t be that bad after all.

“Parker.”

Morgan glanced at Peter as he turned around, and then looked at the guy that had spoken; he wasn’t overly tall, had tanned skin and dark, brushed back hair, and stood with an air of arrogance.

“Hi, Flash, please fuck off.” Peter said, with a fake smile.

“Who’s your girlfriend, Parker?” Flash asked, nodding his head in Morgan’s direction.

Flash seemed like a dick. So much for Midtown being good — well, hopefully one dickhead wouldn’t ruin everything.

“I’ll have you know that I am _not_ his girlfriend.” She said, glaring at him.

A genuinely shocked expression covered his face, and he looked between Morgan and Peter with extremely raised eyebrows. Flash blinked slowly. “I didn’t know you had a sister...”

Morgan stared at Peter. Peter stared at Morgan.

They both burst out laughing.

Flash looked very confused.

When Peter got over his laughter, he cleared his throat. “Morgan, this is Flash Thompson, he’s first alternate on the decathlon team. Flash, Morgan Stacy, the new girl.”

Flash’s eyebrows furrowed, and he pointed between them in confusion. “But — y’all look exactly the same — maybe cousins? You’re definitely related — i’m—“

Morgan laughed again, and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, dude. I literally met him this morning. Have a fun life.”

She turned away, and Peter followed her. “Sorry about him.” Peter said. “He’s a dick. I’ll show you where we have first period. Let’s go.”

Morgan smiled, and followed him as they walked down the hallway.

_**MARCH 17, 2025, 2:54 PM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

Azmariah was a bit late.

That was fine, though. Peter Parker was waiting with her, because his Uncle was late too, and Morgan had a feeling that they were starting to become friends.

The two of them had all of their classes together, which was good. He introduced Morgan to his best friend Ned Leeds, and Cindy Moon, the girl that he mentioned in the morning.

Cindy was cool. She was a bit of a control freak, but she was super fun, and really, really smart. Cindy introduced her to the girls from the decathlon team, Michelle Jones, Liz Allan, Seymour O’Reilly and Sally Avril, and also Betty Brant — who wasn’t on the team, but was good friends with everyone on it.

They were pretty awesome.

Flash Thompson was definitely a dickhead. He seemed convinced that her and Peter were related, and had made fun of Peter about it all day long.

Morgan felt like she should say something to him — she learnt how to stick up for people from one of the literal most powerful people in the country, so she knew her way around threatening people.

A dark car with tinted windows pulled up in front of Morgan and Peter, and Peter walked over to it, grabbing the door handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Morgan!”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then!” She said back, as he got into the car. Morgan waved to the car as it drove away.

It was the sort of car that Happy would drive to pick her up from school, and made her wonder if maybe Peter had a fake name and a fake life too. _Maybe_ he was that secret kid of Tony Starks’.

Morgan laughed to herself, and rolled her eyes. That was ridiculous. Just because Peters’ Uncle drove a car like one that _her_ _Uncle_ would drive when picking her up, didn’t mean that he was also the secret child of someone rich and famous.

She was probably just trying to find a reason for the fact that she already felt so comfortable around him — and so was trying to imagine him as the kid of the man that owned the company her mom ran.

Yeah, she was being stupid.

Her phone dinged, and she looked at it in boredom.

_**AZZY:** Running late, be there in 5._

_**AZZY:** Stay safe. Don’t die._

Morgan scoffed at Azmariahs ridiculousness, and typed back a message of her own.

_**MORGAN** : yeah yeah. i’ll be fine._

_**MORGAN** : see you in 5._

She started scrolling through her instagram feed as some form of entertainment as she waited for Azzy, before a message from Maddie popped up. She opened their chat.

_**MADDIE** : ugh school suck without u man_

_**MADDIE** : chelsea and raina miss u!!!!!!!_

_**MADDIE** : and jason literally started crying when he remembered that you’re gone_

_**MADDIE** : he hugged me for the whole of morning break and suffocate me._

_**MADDIE** : i don’t think he realises that u don’t like him back._

_**MORGAN** : jason is an idiot and needs to stop_

_**MORGAN** : pls slap him for me_

_**MORGAN** : i miss youuuuuuu_

_**MADDIE** : i miss u too dude_

_**MADDIE** : surely ur mom lets u fly over her soon_

_**MADDIE** : you’ve been gone a month and i’m already dead._

_**MORGAN** : ur not the only one mads_

_**MORGAN** : i’ll literally steal a plane myself if i have to so that i can come visit_

_**MADDIE** : omg help me we’re at lunch and jason’s crying again_

_**MADDIE** : dude needs to get over himself._

_**MORGAN** : oh dear god_

_**MORGAN** : good luck._

Morgan looked up from her phone at the sound of a horn beeping, and saw Azmariahs burgundy Nissan Micra.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _gtg dude azzys here :)_

She got in the car quickly, and threw her bag onto the backseat as she plugged in her seatbelt. “Hey, Az.” She said, turning to grin at the woman in the drivers seat. “Whats up?”

“Fuck New York.” Azmariah exclaimed in irritation, as she pulled out of the school car park. “Fuck New York streets, Fuck New York traffic, _Fuck, Fuck, Fuck_.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Fucking awful.” Azzy muttered, before turning to look at Morgan in horror. “— don’t tell your mom that I said Fuck in front of you!”

“Yeah, like she hasn’t been fucking swearing around me since birth. I bet you one hundred dollars that my first word was shit.”

“I will take that bet.” The older woman said pointedly. “Because I know for a fact that your first word was car.”

“But do you really?” Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows when Azzy beeped the Hirn at a car cutting in front of them. “Were you there? Did you see me say the word car before I said shit? Do you have any proof?”

“We didn’t meet until you were six, and you know it — _stay in your own_ _goddamned lane, dickhead!”_

Morgan laughed at Azmariahs road rage, but rolled her eyes anyway. “You met me when I was _seven_ , Az, Jesus.”

“You were small — _fuck off, ford focus dumbass_ — and below the age of ten — _try cut in front of me, I dare you_ — and therefore you were six.”

“Logical.”

“Exactly.” Azzy laughed. “By the way, your Aunt called, and they’re coming out to visit next month.”

“Really? Are the girls coming? And Uncle Carson?”

“Everyone. Gianetta sounded pretty excited about it.”

“Yeah, well who wouldn’t be excited to see me?” Morgan laughed when Azzy rolled her eyes. “And if she hears you calling her not Ginger again she might _actually_ stab you — Hey, is there any chance that you could get me from the Starbucks near school tomorrow? On Astoria Boulevard?”

“You’ll have to ask your mom, but it should me fine.” Azzy smirked. “Why, you got a hot date?”

“ _NO!”_ Morgan exclaimed. “Some of the girls from school invited me to get coffee with them after school tomorrow.”

Well, they hadn’t, but Azmariah didn’t need to know that… and Morgan just really needed some time to herself — being the new kid was stressful!

“Okay, okay, whatever.” Azmariah laughed. “Its fine as long as your mom says yes.”

Morgan smiled at Azzy, thankful for how lenient she always was — it was much easier to handle than her extremely overprotective mom.

“So school was okay?”

“It _actually_ was.”

_**MARCH 17, 2025, 4:28 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

Despite his fears from the morning, the new kid was nothing to worry about.

Morgan Stacy was pretty cool — they had all of their classes together today, and Peter had a feeling that they would become good friends.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her, though. She reminded him of Aunt May… and his questioning of whether they might be related somehow might be because of Flashs’ incessant teasing, but every time the other boy had mentioned it, some part of him to him that he needed to follow up on his suspicions.

His suspicions were basically just that Morgan Stacy might just be somehow related to him on his moms side of the family… but hey, he was generally right when he had gut feelings, and he hoped that this wouldn’t be and exception. Maybe not even the suspicion that he was related to her, but the feeling that he knew her from somewhere.

He knew Morgan Stacy from somewhere — maybe not from an estranged family member, but still from somewhere — he just couldn’t figure out where from.

His dad wouldn’t be home for at least three hours. Avengers team meeting were anything but fast, and usually his dad ended up home at nine at the earliest, so they would eat take out that his dad had gotten on the way home for dinner and watch movies.

Usually, Peter liked these sorts of days, and today would be no exception. He could let his wound heal in peace, and he could dig up information on his mom and her family.

It was something that he had considered doing many times — he’d often contemplated trying to figure out who his mom was, but he’d always chickened out.

But now, Peter had a reason to try again. He had to find out if he actually was related to Morgan Stacy.

And maybe he was acting on a whim because he wanted Morgan to be related to his mom, but he had a feeling about this.

He had a feeling, and he needed to follow up on it.

Happy had dropped him off after school, and then run off to wait at the compound for his dad, so he would be completely alone until they returned. Usually, he would use his time to work on Spider-Man stuff, or to go out patrolling, but this seemed like more of a priority.

His dads’ lab was underground, beneath their house. It was built down there as a means to seperate work from home, while still keeping the two the same, his dad said — or, in other words, it was to keep Peter far away from his work, while keeping the work at home so that Peter wouldn’t be seen by the public.

He went down to the lab, and sat at the table that his dad had installed for him, and pulled up the secure file that included everything about him on it.

“Hey, FRI, what’s up?” He asked, looking at the floating blue hologram intensely. “Can you maybe… not let dad know that I’m looking through these files? And delete the footage once I’m done?”

“Of course, Peter.” FRIDAY said, her voice cool and collected. “Your father will not be notified that you are looking through his files, and the footage will be deleted. If the information that you are looking through could harm you, however, I would be inclined to notify him immediately.”

“Right. Cool. Thanks, FRI.” He clapped his hands together, and sat cross legged on his desk. “Alright, can you look through dads personal files, and look for anything encrypted — wait, no the whole things encrypted… anything more encrypted than the rest? A ghost drive, maybe?”

“I have found seven terabytes worth of encrypted data within the encrypted file labelled ‘ _Personal_ ’.”

“Okay, cool… cool.” Peter bit his lower lip, and looked at the progress bar that had appeared holographically in front of him. “How much of that data is on a file within ‘ _Personal_ ’ labeled — about me?”

“Six point four terabytes of the seven terabytes of encrypted data within the encrypted file are within another file named ‘ _Little Rock_.’ — the name Peter is roughly translated to stone or rock in Greek.”

“Okay, open that file, and highlight all of the encrypted data.”

The list of files in front of him shifted, so that there was a highlighted list and a non-highlighted list.

He dragged the highlighted list in front of him, and enlarged the first piece of data, a photo of him with Uncle Rhodey when he was six or seven. Peter smiled at the photo, before swiping it away. “FRI, can you un-highlight anything from after my third birthday?”

“Of course, Peter.” She replied, and a considerable amount of the highlighted filed disappeared. “There is fifty two gigabytes of encrypted data within the ‘ _Little Rock_ ’ file, would you like me to enlarge it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, do that.”

Thirty or so icons floated in front of him, and he frowned — no way was it going to be this easy to find out about who his mom. He could’ve easily done this when he was like, seven.

“Okay, so what is this stuff? Anything notable? Any documents? My real birth certificate… I’ve never actually seen the _real_ one…”

“There are forty five gigabytes of images, all saved before the tenth of August, 2013.”

“How many photos is that?”

“That is twenty five JPEG images worth of data.”

“Twenty five, okay… can you bring up any that are just of me and dad?” About half of the image inions enlarged. “Okay, get rid of those ones. We don’t… need them.” He swiped the enlarged icons away.

Peter smiled as he looked at the remaining photos. There were thirteen left. “Okay, me and Rhodey — get rid of that. Me, Ben and May — save that to my phone, it’s cute. And get rid of it. Yeah, bye bye…” He froze for a moment. “Don’t delete the ones that im telling you to get rid of, just file them back away.”

“Of course, Peter, you do not have the authority to delete anything from the ‘ _Little Rock_ ’ file anyway.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, course I don’t. Alright, lets’ keep going. Me and May and dad, Me and Rhodey and Happy, Me and dad and Rhodey — get rid of those three… Me and dad and May and Ben, Me and Pepper Potts — holy shit, is that me and Pepper Potts!?”

“That is, indeed, you and Pepper Potts.” FRIDAYsaid.

“Holy shit — I knew Pepper Potts? Thats awesome! She’s literally one of the most influential women in the world!”

“I am aware.” FRIDAY said, making Peter roll his eyes. “Incase you have forgotten, she was your fathers Personal Assistant before he appointed her as CEO in March of 2011.”

“… she has a kid, right? A daughter?”

“Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts is the mother to one girl, born before she became the CEO of Stark Industries in 2011. The name and age of her only child is unknown.”

_'Morgan P — Stacy. I’m Morgan Stacy.'_

“Holy _shit!”_ Peter exclaimed again. “...the name and age of Pepper Potts’ daughter _might not_ be unknown. Are there any other photos of Pepper Potts in this file?”

“There are three other images with Pepper Potts in them in the ‘ _Little Rock_ ’ file.”

“Yep, bring them up.” Three images floated in front of him, slightly edged with the blue of the hologram. “Okaaayyyy, me with Pepper Potts, me with May and Pepper Potts — _BINGO!”_

Peter dragged the third image closer to him and enlarged it. A photo of him, Pepper Potts, and another baby. “Well I’d be damned.”

“And why would you be damned, Peter?” FRIDAY asked.

Peter laughed. “That there, dearest, would be none other than Pepper Potts’ secret daughter.”

“Good solve, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks FRI. Well, I’d love to take credit, but the truth is life just isn’t that hard.”

“The reference to Brooklyn Nine-Nine has not been missed, Peter. Gina Linetti, Season three, Episode twenty three; ‘ _Greg and Larry’_.”

“Yeah, good job, FRI.” Peter laughed. “Can you pull up anything you have on Morgan Stacy?”

“There is only two search results on the internet of Morgan Stacy — would you like me to pull them up?”

“Yes please!”

Three articles came up in front of him as holograms, and Peter frowned. “Morgan Stacy, Maddison Davis, and Jason Byrne win science fair with their own homemade engine, 2022 — nope, not useful... Morgan Stacy wins Young Originals art contest, 2024 — also no. Okay, FRI. Can you hack into the school database?”

“ _Very_ easily.”

“Geez, okay, sassy pants.” Peter scoffed, and looked at the numbers running across the hologram as FRIDAY got into the school database. The hologram lit up green, and he grinned. “Okay, you in?”

“I’m in.”

“Awesome, can you find anything on Morgan Stacy in there?”

“Morgan Stacy was enrolled at Midtown School of Science and Technology on January thirteenth, 2025. She transferred from the Notre Dame Preparatory School of Las Angeles, and attended her first day today, on March seventeenth.”

“Cool. Good job — are there any pictures of her in the school file?”

“Yes, there are identifying photos of Morgan Stacy on the Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

“Alright, pull one of them up.” A blue tinted image of Morgan Stacy appeared next to the photo of baby-him with Pepper Potts and her daughter. “And isolate the face of the baby on the right — enlarge that — run facial similarities, see if these two are the same person… that should take a minute…”

A scan ran across the two enlarged images, and Peter watched in boredom — seriously, he had a haunch and now he had most likely figured out the identity of Pepper Potts’ secret daughter… In less than thirty minutes.

“Facial similarity scan is complete, Peter.” FRIDAY informed him. “It is a 98.9% match; Morgan Stacy is the child in the photo.”

And that was that.

“So Morgan Stacy is actually Morgan Potts — and I go to school with one of two controversial kids who’s identities are unknown to the media, the second one being me myself?”

“That would be correct, Peter.”

He hopped off his desk, and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge next to it. “Thats pretty interesting. Why do you reckon they went with Stacy? Because my fake last name’s Parker, which is Ben and Mays, but where did Stacy come from, because —“

“Searching web for relatives of Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts, surname ‘Stacy’.” FRIDAY paused for a long moment, before continuing. “It is the surname of _Gwenevere Elizabeth Stacy_ , the paternal Aunt of Pepper Potts. The surname Stacy is of English origin, being in use in Britain before the Norman Conquest of 1606 —“

“Yeah, I get it FRIDAY. I get it.” He frowned, and looked back at the images of Morgan Stacy, and baby Potts. “What now?”

“What do you mean, Peter?”

“I mean, what do I do with this information? I just went through all this, and now I know that Morgan Stacy is really Morgan Potts, but what so I do about it? Should I talk to her about it? Should I tell her that I’m Peter Stark, and that we knew each other when we were babies —“

“— If I _may_ , Peter —“

“—Or should I wait until we’re better friends before I try talk to her about it? And if I tell her that I know about her mom, does that mean I have to tell her exactly how I found out, or is that way too much of an invasion of privacy? Like will she be mad if I —“

“— Peter, Boss has arrived —“

“— It’s probably a bit creepy that I stalked her whole like, entire life, but I just had a feeling that something was up, and — wait, _shit_ , did you just say that dad’s home?”

“Yes, Peter. Your father is currently unlocking the front door.”

“But it’s only — ugh, _five past five_ — why the hell is he so early?”

“I have not been told why he is arriving home earlier than he usually does when he visits the Avengers Compound. From my knowledge of his meeting with the other members —“

“Not now, FRI! Get rid of all this stuff, quick! And delete your footage from the last thirty minutes!”

FRIDAY was silent for a moment. “I am done, Peter.”

“Okay, okay, okay, we don’t have long. Where’s dad?”

“Boss is currently looking for you upstairs. He has already searched the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen.”

“Okay, put on Brooklyn Nine-Nine. And, FRI, if you rat me out, I swear to you, I will actually delete your personality from your coding.”

“Noted.” FRIDAY continued in a (somehow) smug tone, as Brooklyn Nine-Nine began to play — Johnny and Dora; a classic. “I should probably inform you that if you were to delete my personality, your father could easily recode me again and return it to me.”

“Shut up and watch the show.” He grumbled, sightly annoyed at just how humanoid the AIs’ persona was.

The glass door that led to the lab opened, and Peter saw his dad walk in out of the corner of his eye. “Hey kid.” His dad said, grinning as he walked over to Peters desk. “How was school?”

“School was fine — how was the team meeting?”

“Eh, same old, same old. Cap got man at Sam for swearing, Nat set the couch on fire, Clint fell out of a vent and sprained his ankle, boring stuff.” His dad laughed, and ruffled his hair. Learn anything interesting today?”

Peter smirked, and looked at his dad. “Yes. _Yes I did.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> i think i should just quickly say (Since older Morgan Stark was meant to be played by katherine langford) how much of a legend she is -- like she went to Perth Mod, and yall all probably have no idea what that means but Perth Modern is for the literal best of the best, smartest people in the state, and it is suuuuperrr hard to get in there so... rEsPeCt... also its pretty funny for me that she grew up in applecross because i literally go past there everyday :)
> 
> and since katherine langford, who is morgan stark, is aussie, i now feel validated about making morgan like aussie music -- i mean, when you listen to lots of ACDC other ppl like INXS and Powderfinger and Paul Kelly do come up a lot in your recommended, so its not that out there...
> 
> also if you havent listened to it, the song i mentioned in the first part of this chapter (My happiness by Powderfinger) is amazing and I definitely recommend listening to it :)
> 
> and idk why i feel the need to say this, but i feel like i write the same way i talk (which not sure if that good or bad but not gonna dwell on that) but i makes it kinda weird to be writing two different characters who thinnk very similarly when im writing in the way that i process my thoughts -- if that makes any sense? yeah, its weird....
> 
> but yeah. you guys are awesome and there were so many positive comments in that last chapter so thankyou sm for the support and everything <3


	3. PART TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi :) i havent slept for 48 hours so thats fun, and that brings you chapter three :D enJoY mY dUdEs
> 
> (i may have gone a little overboard with the use of the words fuck and shit but oh well)

**_MARCH 18, 2025, 8:31 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter could safely assume that Morgan was lost. First bell had gone five minutes ago, and she was still wandering around aimlessly, staring at the numbers on the doors and then at her timetable.

He knew that she was in the same class as him, so she had AP Chemistry right now. She was on the opposite side of the school than she needed to be.

Peter also knew that silently following the daughter of _Pepper_ _Potts_ around as she searched for her classroom wasn’t the best idea, but he needed to catch her alone, somewhere no-one else could see them.

He crept up behind her, and pushed the classroom door that he was standing next to open silently, and double checked that it was empty — which it was.

“ _Morgan!”_ He hissed, darting out and tapping her shoulder. “In here!”

She didn’t protest as he dragged her into the empty room — inevitably because of both her surprise and his super strength.

Peter closed the door behind her, turned the lights on, and started closing the blinds on the opposite side of the room. Morgan stood, frozen, watching him as he did so.

 _“Peter?”_ Her voice was confused, and honestly a little scared. Peter realised that, since his suspicions of her being Morgan Potts were confirmed, she probably lived with the same over the top security training and procedures, and lived in just as much fear as he did, so dragging her into an empty classroom and closing the blinds was probably not his best plan. “What in the _hell_ are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you about something.” He said quickly, moving onto the middle blind. “Can you close that blind for me?”

She stayed frozen for a moment, before moving slowly to the window, and beginning to close the last blind.

Peter was very glad that she decided to help him, because his gunshot wound was still… _very_ fucking painful, to say the least, and all the moving around that he was doing was definitely not helping him.

Once all three were shut, Peter pulled out his phone, and pulled a holographic display from it, so that he could hack into the school mainframe. He did so pretty quickly, managing to disable all video and audio recording in the hallway they were in, as well as deleting the last five minutes of footage.

He sat down on one of the chairs, and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Morgan edged toward the door slightly.

Peter knew that one, of course — that was basics of making sure you were safe; stay as close to an exit as possible. Havng an exit strategy was always crucial.

“Can you please tell me _what the fuck_ is going on?” She asked uneasily. She looked super uncomfortable, and Peter immediately felt bad. “Because I really don’t appreciate being locked in rooms when I’m meant to be in chem — especially while you do some weird ass blue voodoo thingy over there.”

“Sorry.” Peter said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Look, I know this is probably super weird for you, and every bit of training that you’ve ever been given is probably running through your head, but I swear to you, I just wanna talk to you.”

“I — my training? I — _the fuck_ — how’d you — this isn’t — _what_ — why — _what?”_ Morgan was shaking her head, looking very stressed, and Peter sighed.

“Look, I know that you’re not Morgan _Stacy_ —“

“How do you —“

“— and I know that because _I’m_ not Peter _Parker_.”

Morgan frowned, and tilted her head to the side in complete and utter bewilderment. “… what do you… what do you _mean?”_

Peter grinned, and held his hand out to her. “Hi, I’m Peter Stark — you know who my dad is.”

“I — I — _what?”_

“I’m Peter Stark, and you know who my dad is.”

“Holy _shit!”_ Morgan ran her hands through her long hair, baffled. “You are Tony Starks kid! I fucking knew it!”

That was one thing that Peter did not know. How did Morgan know who he was — surely she wouldn’t have had a haunch and creepily stalked him through super secure databases like he had, right?

“I knew it!” She turned to him, grinning in a way that seemed eerily familiar to Peter. “Yesterday! Yesterday, when your Uncle picked you up from school — well, his car looks just like my Uncles car, and so I was like, ‘ _hmm, why would Peter Parker be being picked up in the same kind of classically inconspicuous car as me’_ , and then I was like _‘haha what if he’s that kid of Tony Starks’_ ”

He clapped her hands in front of her, and her eyes widened comically. “But I told myself that I was being stupid, but I’m not! And I don’t think mom would’ve appreciated me trying to dig up stuff on you, because i’ve done that before and she got suuuper angry— but you are that kid of Tony Starks! You’re Peter Stark, and I’m Morgan Potts, and I don’t know how you knew that, but you did, and — wait, how did you know that?”

Peter laughed, and leaned back in his chair in a bad attempt at being… passably not-dorky — he had long accepted the fact that he was a nerd. “Well, I dunno, I just couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I knew you somehow yesterday — Flash didn’t help with that — and that maybe you were, know, like me.. so I went digging through some of my dads super super extra more secure than the rest secure files, and I found this gem;” He grabbed his phone back out of his pocket, and swiped the image of baby-him, baby-Morgan and Pepper Potts so that it was floating between them holographically.

Morgan stared between him and the image for a moment, before slowly moving to sit on a chair nearby.

“So, I found that, and, yeah, that’s definitely me and Pepper Potts and her daughter, so I hacked into the schools database and found your school photos, and got FRI to run facial similarities between you and her, and she confirmed it; you are, without a shadow of a doubt, Morgan Potts.”

“And you did all of this because of a haunch?” Morgan also leant back in her chair, and raised one of her eyebrows in a way that Peter definitely recognised, though he couldn’t place where from — surely he wouldn’t know that expression from when they were babies, right?

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, in my family, if you have an intuitive feeling about something, you follow up on it — its part of our nature to be suspicious and wary of everything, I guess… I mean, we have to be aware of absolutely everything — my dad didn’t know one little detail about Bucky Barnes’ time with HYDRA and it ended with him almost being killed by Captain America — so he’s definitely raised me to be extremely cautious of literally everyone one —“

“— did you just say that _Captain America_ tried to _kill Iron Man?”_ Morgan asked, her eyes filled with shock.

“Yeah, it was _not_ good. Anyway, so when I had this feeling, I just… _followed up_ on it. It’s what I know how to do, so I did, and I found out the truth.”

“Can we just circle back to the fact that _Captain America almost killed Tony Stark?”_ Morgan waved her hands around in front of her in what Peter could only assume was exasperation. “Are we not gonna talk about it? Cause that’s _insane!”_

“Well, I mean, Obadiah Stane almost killed him too; and Ivan Vanko, and Loki — even though he’s a good dude now — and Aldrich Killian, and even his _own goddamn heart_ , so —“

“— His own heart? What do you mean _his own heart?_ How does that even —“

“— that’s beside the point, though! I have one question for you;” Peter waved the photo away, and instead brought up a holographic image of Morgans student ID. “Is _when_ did you start using a pseudonym?”

“It's a pretty big deal for being _‘not the point’!”_ Morgan huffed, crossing her arms. “And as soon as I started preschool, as far as I know. Why?”

“And people discovered that Pepper Potts had a daughter, what, two, three years ago?”

“Four years. January of 2021.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “One single paparazzi photo brought literally everything falling apart — I’m lucky I had a hood on, because if I hadn’t they would know that I wasn’t blonde, and I would become an actual suspect.”

“Yeah, that whole thing is stupid — it's like these people don’t know how recessive and dominant traits work. _Idiots.”_ Peter scoffed. “I remember how much everyone freaked out when your existence was leaked; it was only like, six months after they found out my dad had a kid — same sort of situation, really — and the entire media was like _‘Oh my gosh there’s two of them!’”_

Morgan laughed. “So, where were you going with this?”

“Right! My point!” Peter rolled his eyes at his tangent. “So, your cover story is pretty weak, I’ll say that — literally just making your mom your great Aunts’ kid instead of your grandads?”

“That's the idea, yeah. What's wrong with that, though? Isn’t Parker Tony Starks’ sisters last name?”

“Well, if you don’t want people to figure it out as easy as I did — and I literally got it in twenty minutes — then your story needs to be more secure... and as Peter Parker, i’m only related to May through marriage.” He pulled up a rendered image of a man from the phone, and threw it to float next to Morgans' fake ID, then threw the picture of them as babies away from the other information. “Say hello to Stephen Christopher Stacy.”

Morgan stared at the realistic looking image of the man sceptically, eyebrows raised. “Stephen Christopher Stacy?”

“He is the one and only child of Gwenevere Elizabeth Stacy — _previously_ Potts — and her deceased husband, Robert William Stacy.”

“So where’d you get the picture from? It looks pretty legit.” Morgan raised her eyebrow again.

“Well, Gwenevere and Robert never had any kids, so that is a rendered image combing their faces, and then adding brown hair and brown eyes — any kid of theirs would’ve been blonde and blue eyed too, but that wouldn’t make sense considering—“ He gestured to Morgan vaguely.

“— but, I get creative liberties. He was born in June sixth, 1973, in Wilmington, Delaware… his parents moved to Denver, Colorado, in 1976, to be closer to his moms family, including is cousin Pepper Potts. He went to the University of Denver, fine arts degree, graduated class of ’95… met Virginia _‘Gin’_ Clarke, they got married in 2007 — honeymoon in Sweden, _very noice_ — and then had their first and only daughter, Morgan, in 2010.”

Morgan exhaled dramatically, and clapped her hands in front of her. “… that's… a lot.”

“Thats a foolproof cover story, _Miss Potts.”_ Peter rolled his eyes. “Basically impossible for anyone to crack open; I’ve backed it up, so most of SHIELD can’t even tell that its fake — Nick Fury will be able to tell, but that’s basically it. It’s foolproof.”

Morgan gave him a small, somewhat confused, smile. “Why are you doing this for me?”

Peter grinned. “Eh, just thought, we’re in the same boat, y’know? And I know that if it were me, I would hate if some random just figured out who my dad was, just like that.” He snapped his fingers to make his point, and grimaced slightly. “So I thought I’d help you out a little — plus, I have the tech and stuff, so I may as well.”

“Well that’s actually really… really nice. Thanks, Peter. Thank you!” Morgan frowned at the holograms. “So… this is the sorta stuff that your dad works with? Like when he’s making Iron Man suits and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Peter laughed softly. “He’s all about his holograms. Loves ‘em.”

Peter looked back at his phone, and winced when he saw that his dad had texted him.

_**DAD:** Kid why aren’t you in class?_

_**DAD:** I dropped you at school, why aren’t you there?_

“You alright?”

He snapped his head back up when Morgan spoke, and nodded with a slightly pained expression. “Yeah, this is just — father shall have my head — for not being in class.”

Morgans mouth flew open, and she covered it with her hands. _“Shit!”_ She exclaimed through her hands. “My mom! My mom will actually fucking _kill me!”_

“Don’t worry, I got this.” Peter groaned as he heard his phone ding with another text. He pointed to his phone. “Just let me — sort this first, then I’ll sort that.”

_**DAD:** Kid, I swear to god_

_**DAD:** Pete._

_**DAD:** Pete are you okay?_

Peter rolled his eyes at his dads freaking out, and quickly texted back.

_**PETER:** yeah dad im fine_

_**PETER:** i was just helping my spanish teacher with some stuff_

_**PETER:** my chem teacher will mark me as present dw_

_**DAD:** Alright, Pete._

_**DAD:** Stay off your phone in school, don’t do drugs, get an education, love you, have a fun day <3_

_**PETER:** will do_

_**PETER:** love u too dad :)_

Morgan gave a loud laugh, and Peter looked up at her, raising his eyebrows at her as though to ask, _‘what?’_

She pointed to the holograms, which Peter looked up at, and, to his slight horror, saw his text chain with his dad. “Well, _shit_.” He muttered under his breath, as Morgan kept laughing.

“Oh my god!” She said, gasping in air between her laughs. “Iron Man — _fucking Iron Man_ — sent you one of those hearts with the threes! That is — _golden!”_

Peter shot her a glare, and swiped the messages out of the air. “Don’t read those. Thats — that’s _weird_.”

Morgan laughed, and rolled her eyes. “What? It’s _cute!”_

“I bet Pepper Potts sends you hearts.” Peter said in annoyance, turning to the holograms and hacking back into the database so that he could mark him and Morgan as present.

“Yeah, well, she’s _my mom_ —“

“— yeah, and he’s _my dad!”_

Morgan scoffed, and reached out to try pull the messages back up onto the hologram. “It’s still adorable, though!”

“Don’t touch my holograms! Dude!” Peter swatted her hands away, and she rolled her eyes.

“Come on, I just wanna look at the picture again!”

“You don’t know how my phone works!”

“Can’t be that hard.”

Peter scoffed. “It’s specially made.”

“Yeah, can’t be that hard to figure out.” She reaches out and grabbed the phone. Peter watched, amused, as she frowned at it, then started typing.

It was a complete surprise when she actually swiped the photo back up between them, and turned to him with a smirk. “ _Boom_. Got it first try.”

“I’m... very impressed.” Peter said slowly. “Not many people can work that phone — dad designed it so that it’s practically impossible to use if you don’t know Mayan numerology, and, well...”

“You didn’t think i’d know it?”

“Weeelllll...” Peter shrugged. “Most people don’t even know it exists — and it’s pretty complicated, so...”

Morgan let out a loud laugh. “Nah, I get it — I stumbled across it completely by accident, and just kinda learnt it for fun... i’m guessing your dad taught you about it?”

Peter shook his head. He was... still confused by Morgan Potts — he knew who she was now, but something still seemed odd about her; not dangerous off, just off. “Self taught. Saw dad using it once and decided to teach myself.”

“Huh.” Morgan blinked suddenly, then pointed to the door. “We should probably — go to—“

“—chem! _Right!”_ Peter laughed. “Almost forgot about that — we’re marked present, so we should be able to just sneak in and sit down.”

“Cool, let's go!” Morgan said, standing up and slinging her backpack over her shoulder again.

Peter grinned to himself. He had found Morgan Potts, the literal only person in the world that could relate to his family situation — _minus_ the superhero part.

Which was _awesome_.

_**MARCH 18, 2025, 3:48 AM — STARBUCKS ON ASTORIA BOULEVARD, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

“So, why did you bring me here?”

Morgan held her Frappaccino — it may or may not have been double espresso — in one hand, a fork with chocolate cake on it in the other, and smirked at Peter, raising one eyebrow. “Doesn’t matter. Shut up and drink your Frappaccino!”

“But why do I have to drink my Frappaccino?” Peter frowned, and Morgan rolled her eyes.

“You should be glad that I bought that for you! That cost me five whole dollars! I even payed for an extra espresso shot!”

“Well, you got the extra espresso shot too!” Peter whined, taking a long sip of his drink. “Okay, I will admit, the extra coffee definitely makes it a million times better!”

Morgan laughed at him, and drank some of her Frappaccino. “I told you. Caffeine is great!”

“Caffeine is great; we agree on that.” Peter rolled his eyes. “So why am I here?”

Morgan smirked, and held her drink in the air as though to give a toast. Peter was quite cool — sure, she had only met him yesterday, but they were becoming friends, good friends, already.

He was the only person in the world that could possibly understand her; they were literally the only two people in the world that had super rich, famous and personal parents and secret identities to protect their lives. Their situation was so insane that they kind of had no choice but to stick together — plus, having someone to talk to about everything was quite literally a dream come true.

She should have tried to figure out who Tony Starks’ son was a long time ago.

Granted, it wasn’t really Morgan that figured it out, but, still — she suspected it, and is she had Tony Stark level technology at her dispense she probably would have figured out the truth, like Peter had.

“You are here as my alibi…” Morgan admitted, which made Peter lift his hands in exasperation. “— aw, c’mon, don’t look so offended!”

“I’m _not offended—“_ Peter tried to reason.

“You _are_ offended, I can tell” Morgan scoffed. “Trust me, you don’t need to be. You’re here as an alibi, but you’re still a cool dude, and probably the only person in the world that I can relate to, so…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Peter sighed. “It’s kind of crazy, our…” He gestured between them. “… entire situation. It's insane! And we managed to — find each other! Like what —”

“—are the chances of that, yeah. It’s pretty weird.” She smiled, and stared into her drink. “I can’t believe that we actually found each other, and our identities, and — yeah. It’s kind of amazing.”

“Very, _very_ , extremely amazing.” Peter agreed, nodding his head. “... you do realise I could’ve bought my own drink though, right? I am also very rich — just like you. We’re both part of the one percent.”

“And I resent that.”

“Well, so do I.”

Morgan scoffed, and stared down at the table in slight annoyance. Being one of the uber-wealthy had it’s positives, sure, but it also kind of sucked — because, obviously, super rich people had a bit of a reputation for being greedy, selfish, power-hungry megalomaniacs only concerned with making money; and her mom was not excused from the stereotype.

Which sucked, because her mom was the literal opposite of all that, and yet she still got shit for being wealthy — hence why Morgans’ identity was a secret. Most people seemed to understand that Pepper Potts was running one of the leading companies in the way of both technology and clean energy, helping as many charities as she possibly could, and that she was doing this while trying to raise a teenager on her own… but there was still a huge amount of people that thought she was just a greedy, stuck up billionaire.

And, yeah, some rich people were all of that, and they did suck, and they were dick heads, like Jeff Bezos — who Morgan had heard her mom talking to during business calls, and just seemed like a scumbag, even from that limited, _not-really-even-an-interaction_ interaction.

Peter would understand her thoughts on that, surely — he was also crazy rich, living sheltered from the world to protect his own life, while fire raged down on his father from all angles… he was the only person that could even try to understand.

“What do you reckon you’d do if you got all of your dads money, just like… right now?” She asked Peter, looking up to see him trying to wipe a pained expression off of his face.

She would come back to that later. If anyone was going to know anything about ‘faking it till you make it’, which Peter was definitely doing right now, it would be Morgan.

Peter groaned at her question. “Well… I would hide alone in my room for a couple of weeks, pretend to plan my dads funeral, but make someone else actually do it, have a quick press conference about how the media isn’t allowed at dads funeral, so they can _fuck off_ …” He sighed, and Morgan blinked slowly.

He had obviously thought about what would happen if his dad died a lot — Morgan supposed that it was something that he always had to think about; what with his dad being Iron Man, and almost dying way too often for it to be healthy.

 _“Shit.”_ She muttered under her breath. “No, no, not like that, I mean… like, what would you do with the money?”

“Oh.” Peter visibly relaxed. “I don’t really know. Dads got like, heaps of money — I wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

Morgan nodded in agreement — she got it. She really did.

If she were to get her inheritance right now, she would have no clue what to use it for… other than to buy groceries.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Peter got his weird phone back out, and spoke in a low voice. “I just gotta tell you that you really need to make your mom get more secure files.”

Morgan almost spat out the coffee she was drinking. “What!?”

Seriously — _what was with this dude and creepily looking into her life?_

“I mean, it’s alright. The server she has all her stuff on.” He kept talking, like Morgan hadn’t said anything. She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t seem to take notice. “I didn’t want to go to deep into all her stuff, because that would be really weird…”

“Mmmmhmm.”

“So I just kind of skimmed through it — don’t worry, I didn’t actually… look at anything. Or anything important, or any photos or anything — that would be creepy.”

“ _Mmhm_.”

“And the firewall was harder to get into than the Pentagon —“

“—you _hacked into the Pentagon?—_ “

“— but it still only took like… a half hour. So you might wanna fix that up.” Peter obviously wasn’t listening to anything she said, and just kept rambling about her moms secure files. “It might take a bit, but you just have to encrypt the main drive, then encrypt each file, and each file within the files. And strengthen the firewall like, a lot. You’ll have to do it manually, though, so I can’t really help — I don’t think your mom would be to pleased about you hanging out with… me.”

“Yeah, yeah, piece of cake.” Morgan murmured, taking another long sip of her drink.

“Seriously, it won’t be easy.”

“I can figure it out.” Morgan assured him with a grin. “Thats what I do — I figure things out as I go along.”

“Wow, no wonder no-one suspects that you are who you are.” Peter laughed, looking down at the table. “You wing things. _Insane_ … I mean, I wing things too sometimes — not that often, surprisingly — but — _you_ — that’s like, the least Pepper Potts like thing ever!”

“It is definitely the least Pepper Potts like thing ever. Mom hates it.” She laughed softly, before staring at him with interest. “I’m wondering how your identity is still intact — I mean, you’ve threatened my by hijacking my personal life and my moms secure files twice, just today. Seems like a very Tony Stark, _‘I hacked the governments systems in front of the senate once’_ , tech genius kinda vibe.”

Peter shrugged noncommittally. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do. And, I usually don’t do that — it’s just because you’re you, and.. you get it — what it’s like.”

“That I do.” Morgan agreed slowly. “What do you reckon happened… between my mom and your —“

Morgan was cut off by Peters phone ringing loudly. His eyes widened almost comically, and his jaw dropped in a huge smile of disbelief.

“Holy shit!” He whispered. “I’ve gotta take this.” 

“Тетя! Ебена мать! У тебя все нормально? Что творится?” Peter answered the phone and held it to his ear, still grinning when he answered. He was speaking in a really fast, excited voice, then shook his head. “Right, yeah, sorry Sam, I forgot that you don’t speak Russian.”

He spoke Russian. Morgan blinked in surprise. That was a little tiny bit insane.

“Yeah, well, I forget about you sometimes, dude — Привет, Баки, как дела? — yeah, yeah, I know Sam — But Nat! I was so worried about you! Rhod— Yeah, I know you’ve been talking to him, but he wouldn’t tell me anything — I know! He — yeah — yeah — you know I’m definitely not — pfft, you’re the — no, I wasn’t gonna say that — Awesome! When do you come back? Cause its already been a week, and I’m really starting to miss your Pirozhki — yeah, it’s all about the food — of course! — three weeks!?”

Morgan watched with interest as Peter kept talking, sometimes switching to Russian. He was smiling the entire time, waving his free hand around as though he was talking to someone present.

“—yeah, alright. I promise I won’t touch your knives if I go upstate — no, I’m not saying that because I would — Nat, I can hear the judgement in your — please stop — yeah, alright. — yeah. Bye — Love you too!”

He hung up, finally, and turned back to her, grinning from ear to ear.

“You look happy.” Morgan commented, smiling. “What was that.”

“My Aunt!” Peter exclaimed. He put his phone face down on the table, and had another drink of his Frappaccino. “Я ничего не слышал от нее, так что я волновался, что она умерла, но Shes хорошо - подождите, дерьмо! Ты не говоришь по-русски!”

Morgan stared at him, taking a long drink from her straw to… accentuate her confusion. “What?”

“ _You don’t speak Russian._ I just usually speak Russian when I talk about her, cause she’s a spy and stuff, and it just makes it more fun, but you don’t know Russian, so I won’t speak it. Sorry.” Peter cleared his throat, and smiled at her cheekily. “Non avevo sentito da mia zia, quindi ero preoccupato che fosse morta, ma sta bene, quindi sono molto felice”

_[(I had not heard from my Aunt, so I was worried that she died, but she's fine, so I am very happy.)]_

Morgan scoffed, and rolled her eyes at Peter. Jokes on him — she spoke Italian too. “Beh, sono molto contento che tua zia stia bene - che, devo chiedere, hai detto che era una spia? Come Natasha Romanoff, la vedova nera? È tua zia? È fantastico!”

_[(Well I am very glad that your Aunt is okay -- which, I have got to ask, you said she was a spy? Like Natasha Romanoff, the black widow? She is your Aunt? That is awesome!)]_

Peter stared at her, surprised, and she laughed, before continuing. “Possiamo parlare inglese adesso? Solo perché, sai, è più facile? Niente contro l'italiano - la mamma dice che mia nonna era italiana, da parte dei miei papà - ma l'inglese è un po' più facile per avere una lunga conversazione…”

_[(Can we speak English now? Just because, you know, it is easier? Nothing against Italian -- mom says my grandmother was Italian, on my dads side -- but English is a tiny bit easier for having a long conversation…)]_

Peter stared at her, before laughing loudly. “Bene. Noi parliamo inglese.”

_[(Fine. We will speak English.)]_

“Anyway!” Morgan quickly said, before he could start speaking not-English again. “What I was saying is; what do you think happened between my mom and your dad? Like, apparently they were good friends, and there was that photo of us that you found of us as babies… why do you reckon they stopped talking?”

Peter blinked once, twice, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. It is pretty weird, though — they’re really good friends, he makes her Chairman and CEO of his company, and then they just… stop. Like they haven’t been seen in the sae room together since 2013 — like, they only ever communicate by calling each other, but they share a company, it —“

“— very strange.” Morgan concluded, looking at him for a long moment. “Like, weirder than my cousin Delilah, and she _dyed her eyebrows bright green when she was eight.”_

“Yeah.” He murmured, agreeing. “It’s also pretty weird that we used to know each other — I mean, it’s crazy! And we were so little and potato-like!”

“I know!” She exclaimed, pulling out her own phone, and opening up the picture. “Look at us! We’re _so cute!”_

Peter gave a short, slow laugh, and then squinted at the picture, looking a bit confused. “Which one’s which? God, I wish babies didn’t all look the exact same.”

That… was a valid point. The two kids in the photo looked really, really similar. “I think… I think I’m the one on the right of my mom… maybe.”

“Yeah — I mean…” Peter looked just over her shoulder for a second, and then nodded to himself. “The one on the right of your mom has darker hair — and you have darker hair than me, so probably.”

Probably.

 _Probably_.

Morgan had an epiphany. A _crazy_ , impossible epiphany.

She let out a short gasp, and Peter looked up at her in surprise. “You alright, Morgan?”

Morgan blinked at him, looking at him closely.

Peter Stark.

She was Morgan May Potts, and she was sitting in a Starbucks in Queens, drinking double shot espressos so they could talk about their very similar, insane situations.

She nodded, and Peter reached an arm out to grab hers.

He looked worried — very worried. “Are you sure? You don’t… look great…”

Morgan clamped her teeth together, and nodded again. “Im fine.” She said, her mouth still set shut.

She pulled out her phone, checking for any messages from literally anyone. Anything to distract her from her ‘lightbulb moment’. To avoid eye contact with Peter Stark.

Luckily, her mom had texted earlier. And called. Repeatedly.

_**MOM:** I’ll be at Starbucks at ten past four to pick you up._

_**MOM:** Have fun with your new friends!_

_**MOM:** See you later! xoxo_

She glanced to the top of the screen. _4:08_. Morgan only had to be here for two more minutes — likely less, because her mom was always earlier.

_**MORGAN:** yeah see ya in a few x_

_**MORGAN:** text when youre here?_

She tapped her nails on the table as she waited for her mom to text back, then took a huge drink of her coffee, finishing it, and continued to avoid looking at Peter.

Luckily, her moms reply came within the minute.

_**MOM:** I’m already outside, so just come to the car whenever you’re ready._

_**MOM:** In the Chrysler._

An ‘ _expensive but cheap enough for the normal, average kind of people’_ kind of car — and her favourite one of them, at that. Chryslers were cool.

_**MORGAN:** coming now :)_

_**MORGAN:** see u in a sec_

She stood up quite abruptly, and grabbed her backpack in a rush, turning to Peter briefly to say goodbye. “Bye, Peter, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Morgan knew she sounded almost robotic, and was very uncomfortable with it — she just needed to escape, though. “This was fun; we should do it again sometime.”

“…bye?” Peter sounded unsure as he spoke. “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

“Yes.” Morgan nodded once, then basically ran out of the cafe, and got straight into her moms car.

She had to do some digging.

_Immediately._

**_MARCH 18, 2025, 6:32 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

_‘I didn’t know you had a sister…’_

_‘But — y’all look exactly the same — maybe cousins? You’re definitely related — i’m—‘_

_‘Which one’s which? God, I wish babies didn’t all look the exact same.’_

Morgan tapped her nails on her chin desperately as she paced her room. She walked around and around and around and around, thinking and thinking and thinking.

She thought so much that she couldn’t reasonably anymore. Her thoughts looped through her head, chasing each other around and around, trying to pick up the loose ends of her train of thought — and doing so unsuccessfully.

Her realisation… well, she was trying to find out how to find out if it was something she should really be thinking about.

She stopped in the centre of her room, standing completely and utterly still, barely even breathing.

She needed to fucking do something.

Morgan rushed over to her desk, and pulled her laptop open shakily, hurriedly, way too fucking nervously.

She had this epiphany… and she truly felt like she had to follow up on it — because she had that feeling yesterday, about Peter, and him finding out who she was, and him being a Stark, and that had all turned out to be right.

So there was a very high possibility that this feeling — this insight, this… this realisation.

But for some reason, she was very afraid. Terrified.

Terrified of _what she would find._

Terrified that her theory would be _correct_.

So instead, she concentrated on something else. She went through the vague steps that Peter had given her: encrypt her moms main drive, encrypt each file, encrypt each file within that, strengthen the firewall.

She did it. Rather fast.

It was rather easy, done in ten minutes. It was a sad excuse of a distraction. Barely kept her occupied.

Because as she was re-securing all of her moms already secure files, there was still something digging at the back of her mind — her intuition, her idea, her theory.

So once she had double checked and triple checked that it was all basically un-hackable, then she forced herself to text Peter.

It was pretty hard for her to do, and took her about five minutes to force herself to do.

_**MORGAN:** hi i fixed my moms files can u double check them for me?_

_**MORGAN:** just make sure that theyre actually secure now?_

_**MORGAN:** thx dude_

Peter didn’t reply.

So Morgan just moved onto the next distraction.

She did all of her homework. She sat in front of a canvas, sketching out the outline for her next painting. She took a quiz on BuzzFeed about when she would meet her spiritual twin — which was ironic.

Then she started following up on her idea. Half an hour of procrastination, and she couldn’t procrastinate any more. She had to get to work.

She had to figure this out.

So she did.

Morgan re-entered her moms files, and started digging.

She searched through them, until she found her file. _‘Dweller of the Bright Sea.’_ A mixture of the Welsh and Celtic meanings of the name Morgan. A perfectly reasonable file name for the hidden child that her mom was trying hard to keep secret — a simple riddle, of sorts. Hiding in plain sight.

That file was very well organised. Split into sub files every year, from 2010 to 2015. All fourteen years of her life. Each sub-file presumably split into more sub-files, for each month, possibly even for each day.

2010 would hold answers. 2011 would hold answers. 2012 would hold answers. 2013 might not hold answers. 2014 definitely wouldn’t hold answers.

Morgan started with 2010. Her birth year — the most likely holder of answers.

The first file, ‘ _2010_ ’, began with ‘ _January-July_ ’, then went through August to December, month by month. She began with August — she was born in August. That would show definitively if her theory was right.

‘ _August_ ’, the second file within the ‘ _2010_ ’, started another file within it — ‘ _Birthday_ ’. It began with photos of her birth. Her mom, looking exhausted and pained, yet so ecstatic and overjoyed, holding a tiny, red-faced baby. Baby Morgan; smiling, then screaming, then crying, then laughing.

Normal baby photos — smiling mother in a hospital, crying baby being welcomed into the world, pristine white hospital bed sheets, obvious joy everywhere.

Until one of the photos wasn’t a photo, but another file — a hidden file, icon as an image, named _‘100_3531.JPEG’_ , yet hiding another bout of images within it.

 _Sneakily_ hidden.

Morgan actually laughed, out loud. Her mom managed to do something sneaky. To hide something from her.

The ‘ _100_3531.JPEG’_ file held… what she had been hoping for, yet fearing more than anything.

Photos. Photos. Heaps more photos.

Photos of Morgan and her mom again.

Photos of Morgan, her mom, and another baby.

Another baby. And Morgan had a feeling that she _knew_ who that baby was.

She pulled up the photo of her, her mom and Peter on her phone… and, well — if she was being completely honest, she couldn’t see much of a resemblance, but the photos were taken a few years apart, so that made sense.

Morgan kept clicking through the photos. Her, her mom, the other baby, and her Uncle Happy. Her, her mom, the other baby, and a woman with long, brown hair, glasses and a kind smile.

She did a quick search, and the Wikipedia page of one Maybelle Margaret Parker, previously Stark.

**_May Parker_ **

_From Wikipedia, the free encyclopaedia._

_Maybelle Margaret Parker (/_ par’ker _/, English: [_ par’ker _]; born December 4, 1971) is the first child and only daughter of Howard Stark and Maria Stark. The lesser known of the Stark children, she married Benjamin Parker at age 28 (1999), four years after her parents’ death, and is now a highly decorated surgeon._

Morgan scoffed at the fact that the ‘opening spiel’ for May Parker was so blatantly ignoring her success — mentioning her marriage before her work. Openly calling her the ‘lesser known’ sibling. Completely ridiculous.

Instead, she zoomed in on the image next to the spiel, a press picture of her at the 2024 oscars, wearing a black dress, and smiling at the camera.

She pulled the image of May Parker next to the image of Morgan, her mom, maybe-Peter and maybe-May.

And, yeah. It was May — which was basically solid proof that her suspicions were right; that Peter James Stark was her twin brother. That her always-absent father was Tony Stark. That in another life, she would have been Morgan May Stark, daughter of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark, fraternal twin sister of Peter James Stark.

Morgan lifted a shaky finger, and clicked to the next photo on the file, and it was real, actual, proper proof. Her, her mom, now- _definitely_ -Peter, and _Tony mother fucking Stark._

Which she laughed at — because she and Peter existed, so he really was Tony _mother fucking_ Stark.

Holy mother fucking _shit_ — this was _real_.

This was really, actually real.

_She was the fucking daughter of Tony fucking Stark._

_Shit!_

She closed all the tabs she had open, and slammed her laptop shut, then left back up and started paying again.

Because this seemed pretty damn real — because this was really real.

This was crazy.

How had her mom even gotten pregnant? Had they been together before Tony Stark — her dad, Jesus — became Iron Man? Why did they split up? Why did they decide that each taking one twin and completely cutting each other off was a good plan? Why couldn’t they just be normal, shared custody, split parents?

Plus, it wasn’t a secret that Pepper Potts and Tony Stark didn’t get along — they had a sort of friendship until sometime in 2013, then outwardly ignored each other; only ever spoke on important calls for the company, hadn’t been in the same building together for something other than press and really important conferences.

They pretty much hated each other.

… That made sense, though. Morgans dad had been gone by the time she was three; she turned three in the middle of 2013, after Tony Stark and Pepper Potts… split.

And, her memories of her father, now that she really thought of them, seemed very Tony Stark. He was Italian, he was known to be coffee addicted, his mom was a renowned pianist, and he was always playing AC/DC when he showed up to fights.

Dear god, her father was fucking Tony Stark, and she didn’t even realise it.

She stopped pacing again, and collapsed onto her bed.

Morgan crossed her legs, leant her elbows on her knees, and ran her hands through her hair… _confused_. She was just damn _confused_.

And she _needed to talk to Peter._

She stood back up, ran to her desk to grab her phone, and then jumped back on her bed, and opened her texts with Peter back up.

He still hadn’t replied, so she texted him again.

_**MORGAN:** dude hi we need to talk_

_**MORGAN:** desperately_

_**MORGAN: l** ike a fucking lot man_

_**MORGAN:** please answer me peter this is rlly important_

_**MORGAN:** peterrrrrrrrrrrrr <3_

_**MORGAN:** pEtEr JaMeS pArKeR_

_**MORGAN:** oR wHaTeVeR uR rEaL nAmE iS bRo_

_**MORGAN:** dude srsly we need to talk about this_

_**MORGAN:** and also we might need to have another early morning kidnapping thing again tmr_

_**MORGAN:** ill bring coffee and pop tarts :D_

_**MORGAN:** actually im too lazy so i probably wont_

_**MORGAN:** okay good talk see you at school in the early hours of my deathness_

_**MORGAN:** byeeeeee **:** )_

Morgan found herself laughing again as she threw her phone back on he bed next to her, sounding slightly hysterical.

She needed to paint right now. _That's_ what she needed. Painting was her escape, her coping mechanism, and her favourite thing.

It was what she _needed_.

And she needed it desperately — because within twenty five minutes, she dug though her moms secret files from her birth, found out about her _fraternal twin brother_ — who was _Peter Stark_ — and figured out that her father, who she may or may not have been in denial about missing, and wishing for, and wanting to be near him, was _Tony mother fucking Stark._

 _Tony goddam mother fucking Stark_ was her _dad_ , and so she needed to paint so that she could keep ignoring her feelings and pretend that nothing big was happening.

She grabbed her headphones from her bedside table, connected them to her phone, and started her painting playlist.

She sat in front of the canvas she had been sketching on earlier, and erased the pencil drawings. Then, she re-drew them with charcoal.

Morgans mind went into auto drive, and so when she got out her oil paints, and her turps, she began to paint.

She wasn’t exactly paying attention to what she was doing. She mixed colours on a whim, and applied them without much rhyme or reason. The colours began to mix together, in an almost impressionist style, as her music continued to play loudly, drowning out all the noises around her.

At some point, her mom opened the door quietly, and sat on the floor next to her, and leant her head into her clasped hands, resting her elbows on her knees.

It was dark; Morgan could see that through her window. The city — the still unfamiliar city — was lit up, bright and shining and full of lights.

Her mom sighed quietly, and turned to study Morgan intensely. She reached out, and ran a hand through Morgans hair gently.

“What’s wrong, honey? Did something happen when you went out with your new friends? You’ve been quiet since I picked you up.” Her mom pressed her lips together, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “ _Talk_ to me, Mo. You gotta talk to me.”

Morgan looked intently at her mom, then looked away to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill.

She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to tell her mom about what she just found out, or anything about meeting Peter, or anything that had started happening since she started at Midtown Tech.

“Morgan..” Her mom said quietly, before sighing, more loudly. “I made Teriyaki Chicken… it's your favourite!”

“Thanks, mom.” Morgan said quietly, leaning into the side hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet and grumpy this last week… I’ve just been stressed. And scared, and — everything, about _school_ , and _New York_ , and —“ She swallowed thickly, and frowned.

“It’s okay, hon. You have every right to be stressed, and scared.” Her mom kissed the top of her head. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you — and New York is scary; _shit_ , _I’m_ scared about being in the New York HQ.”

Morgan smiled, and, despite the craziness of the last 48 hours, she felt okay-ish now, talking to her mom. _Her mom was the best,_ despite not telling Morgan that her father was 100% _Tony Stark_ , and she had a 100% _real twin brother._

She still loved her mom more than anything.

“New York is wack.” She said, laughing. “And, Teriyaki Chicken sounds like the best thing ever.”

“Chicken Teriyaki.” Her mom agreed with a grin. “Love the painting, by the way. Its very… Impressionist meets Post-Impressionist, meets Modern art. Looks great.”

“Thanks, mom.” She said, wrapping up her paint palette, and standing up. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie.” Her mom stood up too. “Let’s go eat some chicken and rice.”

“Mom!” She rolled her eyes, starting to close her door behind her as they left her bedroom. “Don’t down talk your amazing Teriyaki Chicken — it is the best thing ever, and calling it chicken and rice is a horrifying way to explain it.”

“I can talk about my own chicken however I want, young lady.” Her mom smiled. “Now go grab some food — I’ll put a movie on.”

Morgan grinned, and went to grab her dinner.

She could think about everything… _later_.

Now, she was going to eat dinner. She was hungry.

_**MARCH 19, 2025, 8:39 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

Peter was a bit confused about what was going on right now.

He guessed that made sense; after all, he snuck out at two in the morning to go patrolling, then may have had a bit of a building incident on his way home, and gotten himself a little bit concussed… then eaten straight coffee grounds so he could try stay awake to do his physics homework,and finally given in to sleeping at six fifty, less than a half hour before he had to get up for school.

Then drunk two more very caffeinated coffees before hid dad dragged him to school, while he was still pretty damn concussed.

His dad hadn’t seemed to be in an overly good mood on the way to school. His temper had been shorter than usual, and he had been grumbling about the next board meeting at the company all morning.

Peters dad hated board meetings… and all other meetings. And they usually made him pretty irritated.

But he had dropped Peter off at school nonetheless, despite Midtown Tech being way out of is way — making his drive to work way, way longer. He had dropped him off with a quick ‘ _Bye Pete, I love you!’_ , and Peter had replied quickly with a _‘Love you too, dad, see you later!’_ , and a side hug as he ran out of the door, and into the school — five odd minutes late.

And now, Peter was adjusting to the darkness in a classroom that he had been dragged in to way too fast. His head was aching, spinning, and his shoulder somehow hurt more than yesterday, even though it was little more than a shallow wound now.

He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the continually darkening room, before it became way too bright, way too fast.

He shielded his eyes from the source of the light, and started trying to re-adjust again.

It was times like this that his enhanced senses really sucked; because when he got overwhelmed, or badly hurt, or concussed, they would just go completely haywire. And it really wasn’t helping, what with the _way-too-much-coffee_ , and the continually changing light, and the way-too-much-movement.

When his head stopped spinning, so that it was just a general, not unbearable headache, and he could see that it actually was a classroom that he was standing in, and there was a figure standing in front of him, looking at him with a very concerned expression.

It was Morgan Potts. Morgan Potts had pulled him into a classroom, closed the blinds and turned the lights on. Just like he had done to her yesterday.

“ _Huh_.” Peter muttered, squinting in Morgans’ direction, trying to make out more than just the vague outline of her figure. She began to come into focus, and Peter smirked at him. “You uno reversed me. Oh, how the turn tables.”

“You alright there, man?” Morgan asked. “You’re lookin’ a bit… _awful_.”

Peter waved a hand around aimlessly, as Morgan continued to become more focused. “Yeah, yeah, I’m — I’ve got a teeny bit of a concussion, but other than that, I’m cool.”

“Cool.”Morgan said shortly, before she pulled a chair out from beneath one of the tables, and put her backpack on it. Peter watched her, confused, as she pulled a manila file out of her bag, and placed it down on the table in front of her.

“… is this some sort of… business meeting, or something? An intervention? I’m super out of it, and I have a concussion, and I’m a bit dying — so can you please tell me what’s going on?”

Morgan let out a laugh, and it sounded like it was a quiet laugh, but it echoed and boomed through his head like it was being screamed at him through a megaphone — despite the soft tone.

“… this feels pretty damn similar to yesterday.” He muttered, holding his head as Morgan flipped the file open. “Just — it’s a file, rather than my phone.”

“Right.” Peter pulled a chair out for himself, and collapsed onto it. “Right, so… why the file? Have we got another big reveal coming our way? Are you secretly not… not you? Secretly not Morgan Potts, but rather actually Morgan Stacy, and you just said that you’re Morgan Potts to fuck with me? Is it money that you want? Or, like, a suit? Is that what’s happening?”

Morgan blinked at him in disbelief, and shook her head decidedly. “No, I really am Morgan Potts, I’m not pretending to be her just to get money and… _suits_. I’m me, and I have some _massive ass fucking news._ ”

“Massive ass fucking news?” Peter asked, confused. “What is this massive ass fucking news?”

“ _Huge fucking bitch ass news!”_ Morgan looked a bit crazed, standing being the table, her hair unreasonably curly and huge, both hands on the folder, staring at him with wide, insane looking eyes.

Interesting.

 _“Huge fucking bitch ass news?”_ He repeated, raising his eyebrows in confusion. “What's the huge fucking bitch ass news.”

“Okay, so —“ Morgan cut herself off to tie her hair up at the nape of her neck. “So, so, so — remember when we were at Starbucks?”

“Yeah, that was yesterday, Morgan — what’s… this about?” Peter frowned at the look on Morgans face, and then laughed. “Okay, what’s this all about. Talk to me — why’d you kidnap me at twenty to nine in the morning?”

“Alright — we were at Starbucks, okay, and we were looking at that picture of us, and we looked pretty much the exact same, and so I freaked out a little, because everything about all of this is completely insane.” Morgan pulled a piece of paper from the file, and placed it down on the table in front of him. It was the picture he had shown her yesterday. “So, I pulled it back up at home, and I re-secured my moms servers, and I started digging through them — and you will never guess what!”

Peter laughed, and decided to indulge her. _“What?”_

Morgan scoffed. “Anyway, so, I found a file in her files, and it was dressed up as just another photo, but it was a hidden file. And I found this.”

She put another photo on the table, next to the first one. “This lovely little gem, of my birth, but would you look at that!” There was sarcasm dripping in voice, and she sounded kind of… shaky.

Peter looked at the photo, and he saw Pepper Potts, and two newborn babies, and… _his Aunt._

_What the fuck!?_

“What the fuck?” He whispered.

Morgan grinned. “Yeah. That’s my mom, and that’s me — that’s my twin brother, and that is your Aunt, Maybelle Margaret Parker.”

“…what? You have a twin? My Aunt was at your birth? What?”

Needless to say, he was just fucking confused.

“Right, yeah, moving on from that.” She put another photo on top of the other two. “That one is me, and my mom, and my twin brother, and my dad.”

Peter didn’t look at it immediately — because he was pretty sure that he had figured out what was happening. And if he was right, then… _holy shit!_

“Look at it, Peter.” Morgan urged, and so he did.

And his little haunch had been right.

“That — that is — _my dad.”_ Peter managed to stutter out. “What the — _what the fuck, dude?”_

“I know, it’s — super, super insane.” Morgan said quickly, and Peter nodded along slowly.

“That it is.” Peter said slowly. “This is insane — too insane. I mean, _I got shot three days ago_ , and this is still _crazier!”_

 _Shit,_ he didnt mean to say that — especially not to his fucking _twin sister._

“You got _shot?”_ Morgans’ voice wavered, and she stepped away from her folder. “How the _frickety fracketing fuck_ did you get fucking _shot_ , Peter? _Shit!”_

Peter let out a bit of a hysterical laugh. “Not the point here, Mo! You are, right now, here, in real life, actually telling me that we — you and I — are _twins!_ Which is — _Shit!”_

“Yeah, _shit_ , Pete! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“But it makes a lot of sense too!” Peter exclaimed, standing up from his chair, then winced, grabbed his shoulder in pain, and fell back onto his shoulder. “It makes a fucking lot of sense, dude! Look at this — Tony Stark and Pepper Potts have twins in August of 2010. They vibe for a while, keep their kids super secret, then some stuff happens — I don’t know or remember what — so they split up, and continue to keep their kids secret…dad takes me, mom takes you, they only ever talk regarding the company, then we accidentally meet, figure out each others real identities, then figure out that we’re — y’know — and we figured it out because it makes sense, because it doesn’t, and so it does!”

Morgan slowly put the photos back in her folder, and stored at him in confusion. “Weirdly, even though that made zero sense, I understood completely…”

“Exactly!” He waved an arm toward her dramatically. “You get what i'm _saying_ , even though it’s nonsense! It’s like — we’re _connected_!”

“Twin intuition.” Morgan murmured in agreement.

A realisation hit him all of a sudden. _“Oh my god.”_ Peter murmured, staring at Morgan. “I can’t believe I didn’t find out about this yesterday — I mean, I saw that your middle name was May, and I was like, _‘hmm, that’s my Aunts’_ name’, but I didn’t even consider…”

He looked up at Morgan, who looked really, really confused, and burst out laughing. “Sorry, Mo — it’s a family tradition; boys middle names are after their Uncles, girls after their Aunts… Dads is Edward, after his great-uncle, Mays is Margaret, after my great-aunt Peggy, mine is James, after Uncle Rhodey, and yours —“ He pointed a finger at her, almost teasingly. “— is May, after our Aunt.”

“Wow..” Morgan muttered, a smile spreading across her face. “I’m named after _Maybelle Margaret Parker._ That’s awesome!”

Peter raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “May Parker is awesome, okay? Your grandad didn’t let her skip forward like your — our, holy shit — dad did, and she’s still one of the most successful surgeons in New York! She is _awesome!”_

“She is pretty cool.” Peter agreed — because she really, really was. His Aunt was awesome. “And she’s named after _Peggy Carter_ , which makes her even cooler!”

“She’s named after _Peggy Carter?_ ” Morgan basically squealed. “Dude! Peggy Carter was your great Aunt, _holy shit! That is so cool!”_

“Yeah.” Peter agreed again. He couldn’t really remember Aunt Peggy, and she had gotten Alzheimers when he was four or five… but his memories of her were always good. “She made _really_ _good_ cinnamon rolls.”

Morgan started laughing, and he joined her.

“We should probably stop making a habit of these little morning kidnapping things.” Peter said finally. “Cause this is the third day, and this will be our second time late to first period.”

 _“Oh, shit!_ ” Morgan exclaimed. Her eyes widened, and she shoved her file back into her bag. “First period! We need to get to class.”

Peter rolled his eyes at her, but followed anyway. “That we do.” He muttered. “We’re gonna need to have a serious talk about the whole _‘secretly related’_ thing pretty soon though!”

Morgan was already halfway out the door when she called back over her shoulder. “Another time! We’re _really fucking late!”_

Peter just rolled his eyes and followed her.

_His actual, real life twin sister._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stuff will happen soon which is fun :)
> 
> also, just for reference, the russian that peter says isnt translated, because that part is in morgans POV, and she doesnt understand russian, so yall can be just as confused as her. hehehe.
> 
> have a fun time :)


	4. PART THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this is late and the fun part that was meant to happen this chapter... didnt, and then i realised that this book is gonna be way longer than i thought it would so... just bear with me. itll get there everntually :)

_**MARCH 21, 2025, 4:16 PM — TITOS PIZZA, 32ND STREET, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

“So, we should probably... _talk_ about all this. Like, now.”

 _“Probably_.” Morgan agreed in a low voice, staring at the piece of pizza that she was holding intently.

It had been three days — since the second huge reveal of that week. Morgan Potts and Peter Stark were _twins_.

And they hadn’t talked about it _at all._

They had been together basically all day everyday; seemingly becoming attached at the hip. Always together, through all their classes and all their breaks, waiting together when both of their parents were late. Becoming inseparable.

And yet they still hadn’t talked about the extremely complicated truth;

_They were twins._

They were twins, and they _still_ hadn’t talked about the fact that they were twins.

“This is weird.” Peter commented quietly, making Morgan snort. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Of course this is _weird_ , dude.” She said, unintentionally bluntly. “ _I_ for one _never_ expected to be sitting on a third-rate pizza joint at age fourteen, talking to my long-lost twin brother Peter Stark. Don’t know about you, but I _kinda_ feel like we desperately need to sort this out.”

“Yeah, we do.” Peter took a huge bite of his pepperoni pizza, and scoffed. “How the _fuck_ do we even exist? Like, when did this happen? Were they dating? Did they... y’know...”

“Have good ol’ one-time-fuck and end up with two children?” She supplied, and Peters cheeks reddened in discomfort. “I mean, that’s the most likely reason that we’re here — we would’ve been conceived in like, January, which was before your dad — _our_ _dad_ got kidnapped, so, you know...”

“So our parents had a bit of a... _time_ _together_ , when they weren’t _together_ together.” Peter concluded, wincing at his words. “Then dad got kidnapped, and, presumably, they started dating somewhere between him coming home and 2012ish.”

“Then broke up in 2013, mom and I stayed in LA, dad took you to New York, and they didn’t speak again.” She sighed loudly, and took a bite of her pizza. “God, this is _fucked_ _up_.”

 _“So fucked up.”_ Peter murmured in agreement. Morgan laughed.

As weird as the last few days had been, what with revealing their identities, and finding out they were twins and all, it had been nice — just being around Peter. There was something that she hadn’t realised she had been missing, that she had now that they were together.

He was her twin, and she already knew that she loved him as such — it would he hard not to; after all, they literally shared a womb for eight months. And she would never be as genetically similar to someone as she was to him. And they were fucking twins.

It was still hard to get a grasp on.

_She had a twin._

Which was _weird as fuck_ to think about.

“So I guess we... talk? Tell each other about us and our families and shit?” Morgan asked, looking at Peter over her glasses. “I’ve never really tried to get to know my long-lost twin before, so i’m kinda in the dark with all this.”

“Don’t worry, i’ve never done it either.” Peter laughed softly. “But I think that’s... what we’re meant to do?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah....”

Needless to say, the whole situation was _extremely_ awkward; and they were acting accordingly.

“I guess i’ll tell you about me then...” She said, after a moment of them drinking in silence. Then, she started rambling really fast. “So, uh, I grew up in Malibu, I live with our mom, and we moved to Upper East Side a month ago. Mom has a sister called Ginger, and her and my Uncle Carson have two daughters called Violet and Delilah. Vi is two years older than me, and Delilah is two younger... mom wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her family when I was little, so I didn’t meet my cousins until I was like... four- _ish_. Lots of fun. Um, I have a grandad, and my great Aunt Gwen is around to... my moms assistant is called Azmariah; she knows who I am. We’re bros. And my best friend is called Maddie, she’s still in Malibu, and I miss her like _crazy_.”

Morgan did jazz hands, and grinned at Peter awkwardly. “Quick people updates with Morgan! I’ll be here for the next hour.”

Peter let out a quiet laugh. “And I guess I already know that you like painting and Australian music and science — just from stuff we can actually talk about at school.”

“I do like painting and Australian music and science.” Morgan agreed with a small grin. “And AC/DC. I love AC/DC. In Australia, they call them _acca dacca.”_

“Pfft, here you are thinking i’m a fake fan!” Peter rolled his eyes. “In 2020, dad flew us all the way to Australia for the Highway to Hell Perth Festival. So, I definitely know that they call it acca dacca. I also know that they call people the _c word_ for no apparent reason. And they call Burger King _Hungry Jacks_ … so as good as their music is, i’ll never understand them.”

“Neither,” She agreed. “Now it's your turn. Go on, tell me stuff about you.”

“Me… I’m a... _person_. A human being.” Peter shrugged. “Dad and I have lived here since 2013 — we must have moved here when he and your — _our_ — mom broke up, and we have a place in Greenwich Village… no one would ever really expect Tony Stark to live there, so it helps our cover. _Our_ Aunt May lives in Queens; you already know all about her, I guess. Uncle Ben died two years ago… He was shot by a mugger. I was there. It _was not good.”_

Morgan felt tears come into her eyes, and covered her mouth with her hands. She had known that May Parker was a widow, but she didn’t realise that Peter had seen his Uncle die. And him trying to awkwardly talk about it just made everything about May Parkers dead husband seem so much more real.

Peter continued on, barely affected, though. “So that sucked. My Great Aunt Peggy died too, but I was only, like, five, so I don’t remember too much about her. Other than her cinnamon rolls — which I told you about the other day. Uncle Rhodey's cool; he’s a Colonel, he’s War Machine. His mom is basically my grandma, Nanna Robbie. She’s the best. And Aunt Nat too; she taught me Russian. And martial arts. And also how to lie well.”

 _“So cool.”_ Morgan murmured, and Peter grinned.

“Yeah, I mean… Aunt Nat and Uncle Happy always argue about which one of them taught me how to box, because they’re both really good at it, and I honestly don’t know which one it was —“ Peter began to ramble, and Morgan felt her jaw drop.

_She had an Uncle Happy too._

_He taught her how to box too._

“— and if I’m being completely honest, I’ll just give Hap the credit, because Nat already taught me heaps of cool stuff. So he can — what?” Peter must have noticed the expression on her face, and looked kind of concerned. “Are you alright? You kind of look like a fish right now — _sorry_ , that wasn’t nice — did I say something?”

Morgan nodded, and cleared her throat. “Happy is _my_ Uncle too.” She said, surprising herself with the strength of her voice. “ _My_ Uncle Happy taught me how to box too.”

Peter had dropped his slice of pizza — it was his fifth; Morgan was definitely counting — as was staring at her in surprise. “Happy — _Happy_ , like _Happy_ _Hogan?_ Ex-boxer, asset management at SI, doubles as a driver for dad and I? _That_ Happy?”

“The very same.” Morgan muttered.

It was quite uncomfortable, to know that her Uncle had known — about Peter, and their dad — her entire life, and never told her.

… But, he had been the one to recommend Midtown when they moved to New York. And he would have known that Peter went there… so _maybe_ …

“Do you think he _knew_ this would happen?” Peter asked, picking his dropped slice back up. “I mean, he _obviously_ knew that I went to Midtown, and knew that our mom — it’s _so_ weird to say that — was looking for a school for you, so… maybe he kinda… nudged us together.”

“It’s nice to think that maybe he was trying to help us find each other.” Morgan mused. “Makes me less mad at him. I’m mad at mom. I might be mad at dad. I’m super, super mad.”

“Me too.” Her brother agreed quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, last couple days. May must have known, because she was in those photos. And her and dad are super close, so her not knowing would be basically impossible. Rhodey’s been dads best friend since they were at MIT in the 90’s. Happy started working for dad after my grandparents died, and they’re close, so he would’ve known. And — _Иисус гребаный христос!”_

_[(Jesus fucking christ!)]_

Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. “Прекрати ругаться, Питер”

_[(Calm down with the swearing, Peter.)]_

Peter snapped his head up, and stared at her in shock and surprise. Morgan let out a short laugh at the expression on his face.

She had learnt Russian. She only started four days ago, so she was a bit _not_ _great_ at it — especially next to Peter, who would have been learning from an actual Russian for most of his life. She hadn’t slept in a few days so that she could get good at it, but it seemed to be working.

Thanks, Duo Lingo.

She may be terrified of the evil owl, but she was glad that she could annoy her twin with Russian now.

“Ты только что — Вы только что говорили по-русски?” Peter spoke relatively slowly, as though making sure that Morgan could understand it properly, his voice laced with surprise and confusion. “Когда ты, блядь, выучила русский язык? Потому что я полностью уверен, что вы не поняли меня говорить во вторник, и это было довольно свободно — Что за!?”

 _[(Did you just — did you just speak in Russian? When the_ fuck _did you learn Russian? Because I am_ completely _sure that you did not understand me speaking it on Tuesday, and that was pretty fluent — What the fuck!?)]_

Morgan laughed, and shrugged. “Я не свободно. Еще. Можем ли мы говорить по-итальянски, а? Или английский? Потому что я не очень комфортно с этим языком еще.”

_[(I am not fluent. Yet. Can we speak in Italian instead? Or English? Because I am not super comfortable with this language yet.)]_

Peter ate the last bit of his fifth pizza piece, and nodded. “итальянский. Тогда никто не будет знать о том, кто наши родители.”

_[(Italian. Then no one will know about who our parents are.)]_

“Allora perché l'hai giurato?” Morgan asked softly, switching to Italian easily.

_[(So why did you swear?)]_

“Mia zia Nat lo sapeva. Lei cazzo lo sapeva.” His voice was harsh and angry, and Morgan shuddered.

_[(My Aunt Nat knew. She fucking knew.)]_

“I’m sorry, Pete.” She murmured, touching his arm comfortingly. “I’m mad at people too, just… _less_ of them.”

Peter clenched his jaw, and nodded. “Yeah.” He agreed. “Dad, _and_ Rhodey, _and_ Happy, _and_ May, _and_ Nat _all knew,_ and _none_ of them _ever_ told me. Shit, even _Ben_ knew — he had to have known — and now I’m mad at _him_ too, but I can’t be mad at him, because he’s dead, and I—“

He stopped talking, and looked away. Morgan saw him blinking tears away. It must be hard for him — it was hard for her too, but she had a lot less people to be annoyed at. For her, it was just her mom and Uncle Happy. For Peter, it was her dad, and two of his Aunts, and three of her Uncles; one of whom he had watched die.

Which was a _lot_ worse.

Morgan felt awful for him. She wished she could make it better for him. She squeezed his hand gently, and gave him a small, sad smile. “I’m _so_ sorry, Pete.”

He smiled back, and waved his free hand nonchalantly. “It’s alright. I mean, you’re going through this too. We’re both in a pretty awful situation here.”

Morgan nodded, and grabbed her coke, taking a long sip of the drink. “So… do any of your friends know? About you?”

Peter relaxed slightly, and smiled. “Yeah. Ned and Cindy both know. Cindy and I became friend when we were… four. We told her moms when I was seven, and Ned — Ned and I became best friends in second grade, and we told him and his parents in fourth grade.”

“That's the same sort of thing that we went through with Maddie and her parents. We met when we were five, then they all found out about me being moms kid when we were seven.” Morgan smiled, though it was slightly pained. “I miss her. She still lives in Malibu.”

“That must suck.” Peter agreed. “I can’t imagine moving away from Ned. Or Cindy. Or literally anyone on the Academic Decathlon team, for that matter — _other_ than Flash. He’s… _less cool_. Than the others.”

“Maddie still has Chelsea and Raina, though.” Peter looked at her questioningly, so she continued. “They’re our other friends. They didn’t know about me and mom, but… we were still super close. Honestly, the main person I don’t miss is Jason.”

“Jason?” He asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Who’s Jason?”

“Jason Milton has been obsessed with me since grade five. He keeps asking me out, and I keep saying no, and he doesn’t seem to get that I’m not deeply in love with him back.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, and his jaw tightened. “He’s not… He wasn’t stalking you or anything, right? He hasn’t done anything to hurt you? Do I need to… do something?”

Jesus, three days and he was already being aclassic ‘I will protect my sister at all costs’ brother. In complete honesty, though, she felt the same. She loved her brother, and she would do literally anything to protect him. She would actually throw herself into the line of fire for him — he was her twin brother, and she would do anything for him.

It helped that she knew the sentiment was returned.

“Nah, he’s just… got an overbearing schoolboy crush.” She laughed, but it was a bit strained. “On the topic of people… hurting us… hurting _you_ … you wanna tell me why you said you were _shot_ when we talked on Wednesday? Why you had a concussion, too?”

Peter visibly winced, and grabbed another piece of pizza — god it was his _seventh_ slice — how was he eating all that!?

“ _Peter_.” Her tone was similar to the one her mom used when she was telling Morgan off for not sleeping. And, judging by Peters slightly ashamed expression — which Morgan knew was almost identical to the one she wore when her mom spoke to her in the same way — it was working. “Tell. Me.”

And, okay, maybe sort-of-threatening her newly found, long-lost twin brother wasn’t the best idea, but it was very necessary. Her brother had been shot, and he had had a concussion — and she needed to know why.

She wasn’t going to just stand by and let her twin get hurt.

“I… I _can’t_.” Peter admitted softly, sounding truly apologetic, and looking down at his remaining pizza. He had eaten a whole one already, and had another whole pizza before him, which she guessed he was easily going to eat. “I’m _sorry_ , Mo, I really am, but I… just can’t. No-one knows — not even my dad knows.” He sighed, and looked back up at her. “I really do wanna tell you, but it — that could be bad. For you. Something might — I just can’t.”

Morgan reached for his hand again, and he took it. “I just need to know that you’re okay, bro. That nothing bad — worse — is going to happen to you. That you’re okay.”

“I promise you, nothing bad is happening to me.” Pet smiled, and squeezed her hand. “If anything does happen, I’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.”

Morgan frowned, but nodded. “I can’t say I’m happy that you got hurt, but I won’t press, okay? Just… if you need help, or talk, or anything, i’m here. I’m — I’m your sister, Pete, and I just… I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Peter grinned. “Look, Mo, I — I know we’ve only been reunited for a week, or whatever, and we really don’t know all that much about each other, but… You’re my twin sister, and I love you — as your brother. Which I am — 1 —“ Peter laughed uncomfortably. “— I just want you to know that.”

“Love you too.” Morgan said, smiling at her brother. “I get it, Peter. We’ve been around each other for literally five days, but… you are my brother, and I do love you.”

Peter smiled. Then he smirked. “Who do you reckon is older?”

Morgan scoffed. “Let's not play that game. You and I both know it won’t end well.”

**_MARCH 23, 2025, 3:37 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

It had been a relatively good patrol; no stabbing, no shooting, no slashing, no choking, no concussions. Everything was fine.

He was back in his normal clothes, his suit stuffed into his backpack. He had left a few hours before midnight, and was completely sure that his dad didn’t know, so he was in the all-clear.

He crawled up to his bedroom window, on the second floor, and pushed the window open so he could climb in.

His room was dark, and his door was shut, and he sighed in relief; like he did every time that he came home. The fear of his dad finding out about Spider-Man was constant — the man would be absolutely furious. Hell, he would be furious just knowing that Peter stayed out as late as he did.

_“Peter James Stark.”_

Peter spun around, and his jaw dropped in terror.

His dad.

His dad was sitting on his bed in the dark, on his bed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. His heartbeat was beating really fast and irregularly, his breath coming out in short, uneven puffs. The man looked… absolutely furious. _Outraged_. There was practically smoke coming from his ears.

“FRI, lights.” The lights came on, and his dad became much more visible. “You have some explaining to do, young man.” His dad basically hissed. “It is twenty to four in the morning, Peter! Where the hell have you been?”

“I — uh — _I was_ — ah —“ Peter dropped his backpack, and rushed toward his father, an arm outstretched as though he was placating a wind animal. “Dad, _I_ — was just — _dad_ —“

His dad stood up from the bed, anger hanging in the very air around him. “Your pupils are dilated. _And_ you’re out of breath.”

That was because of adrenaline. And all the exercise he did on patrol was what made him out of breath. He was — he _couldn’t_ — his dad _couldn’t_ know!

“Dad, its —“ He was cut off my his dad grabbing his arm.

It wasn’t a… _harmful_ grab. His dad would never do anything that could _harm_ him — but it was an angry grab, but there was still some… some tenderness, mixed in there. There was love hidden beneath the aggression and outrage that his father was giving directing at him.

His dad stepped toward him, and Peter took a short step back. “You know, Peter, last time I checked, my fourteen-year-old son actually lived in this house — slept here, lived here, was actually here in the early hours of the morning when the worst thing he should be doing is staying up to write essays! And FRIDAY — _my own damn AI_ — didn’t have the thought to tell me until three. Which was _wonderful_.”

His dad never called him just ‘ _Peter_ ’. His full names, sometimes, if he was in heaps of trouble, but usually just _Pete_ , or _kid_. _Son_ , sometimes — to the amusement of May.

“Dad, _seriously_ , don’t —“

The older man stepped forward again, his face hardening even more. Peter could hear the slight grinding if his dads teeth, and stepped back again slightly as his dad advanced. “Don’t you think I haven’t seen this before, Peter. Because I have.”

The _Peter_ , again. This was _bad_.

His dad uncrossed his arms, and clapped them in front of him, in a bit of a passive aggressive manner. “So, what is it? What are you on? What have you taken, Peter?”

“I haven’t taken anything! _Dad!_ _I_ —“

He was cut off again, as his dad pushed his long sleeves up his arms, and ran his hands up and down Peters arms, glaring at them.

“You think I’m _injecting_ something!?” He ripped his arms away, and stepped away from his father. “What the _hell_ , dad! Why would I _ever_ do that? How fucking dumb do you think I am.”

His dad sniffed, and crossed his arms again. “Once again, don’t think I haven’t seen this happen before! Hell, _I_ did it!”

 _“Dad!”_ Peter pushed his sleeves back down angrily, and stepped up to his dad, finally. “Why the _hell_ would I do that! Why would I do that, when alcohol is quite literally my worst fear, dad! Why would I _inject myself_ when I am scared of going anywhere near _any_ of that!”

His dads expression softened slightly, and the mans voice became slightly less harsh. But only slightly.“ _Peter_ —“

“No, dad, I’m being serious!” He took another step forward. “I watched you suffer from this shit so much when I was a kid — do you remember, when I was a baby, and you sent me to Mays, and destroyed our house? Or — or when I was four, and you passed out on the couch drunk, and I thought you were _dead?”_

The mans face hardened again, covering up the guilt that Peter could see in his eyes. “ _Peter_.” He warned. He also stepped forward, so the two of them were toe to toe, Peter staring up at his dad in defiance, his dad glaring back in response. “You don’t get to turn this on me, here. You are coming into your room from your fucking window, at four in the fucking morning, showing fucking signs of drug use — what the fuck else do you want me to think!?”

 _“I don’t know!”_ Peter exclaimed, looking behind him in exasperation. “Literally _anything_ but that!”

His dad looked down at him for a moment, then frowned. “Go to bed.” He said angrily. “We can talk in the morning. Just get some sleep.”

“C’mon, dad, you just gotta —“

“Peter.” The man held a hand up, and looked away with a heavy sigh. He looked tired; exhausted. “Just sleep.” Peter complied, though reluctantly.

“ _Dad_ —“ He tried one last time, but his dad was already at the door.

“Goodnight, Peter.” His dad said, roughly. _“Go to sleep_. I’ll know if you try sneak out again.”

“Dad —“ His dad looked up, and stared him intensely into his eyes. “— I love you.” He added the words softly, and collapsed onto his bed. “And I’m sorry.”

His dad sniffed again, and his face relaxed a bit. “I love you too, son.” He pulled the door shut, but Peter still easily heard him. “Sleep. Now.”

Peter stared at the closed door, then glared up at the ceiling. “Thanks for that, FRI. Really appreciate it. Like, a ton.”

“I apologise, Peter.” FRIDAY said, and he huffed — unsure as to whether he was annoyed, or angry, or something else altogether. “I was merely worried for your wellbeing. It is important that your father knows of your irregular activity.”

“Yeah, _whatever_.” He picked up his backpack, disheartened, and threw his suit into its hiding spot, in the roof inside his walk-in wardrobe. He slumped down on his bed, and covered his head with his hands. “He is going to fucking _kill_ me.”

“As I have told you many times, Peter, the probability of your father killing you is less than 0.01%. His main objective, and mine by extension, has always been to protect you. Killing you would be _extremely_ counter-productive.”

“And as I’ve told you many times, FRI, it’s a figure of speech.” He grumbled. He pulled his phone out of his bag, and opened his messages.

He could talk to his sister. She would always be there for him to talk to; she’d said so herself.

_**PETER:** hey mo_

_**PETER:** u up?_

Peter waited for a moment, before his sister sent her reply.

_**MORGAN:** yea im awake_

_**MORGAN:** what’s up bro_

_**PETER:** stuff happened._

_**PETER:** can i call u?_

_**MORGAN:** yeah ofc bro_

A few moments later, a call came through his phone, and he quickly grabbed his bluetooth headphones, and connected them to the phone before he answered.

A hologram of appeared above him as he lay on his back, and Morgans face swam in front of him. She looked… like Morgan, her glasses slipping down her nose and her hair in a very messy pony tail. And there was something green all over her face.

“Hey.” She said quietly, moving the phone slightly, making her face shift shakily. “What happened?”

Peter sighed, and threw his hands out on either side of him. “Fight with dad. Sort of — mainly just him being mad at me, and cutting me off a bunch.” He spoke lowly, so that there was no way his dad could hear. “For some reason it's unacceptable for me to crawl in through my window at three forty in the morning with no explanation.”

“Peter!” Morgan exclaimed. “Why the hell were you crawling through your window at three forty in the morning? Has this got something to do with why you got shot? Are you in a fight club?”

“Not you, too.” He groaned. “No, Morgan, this has nothing to do with… that. And I’m _not_ in a fight club. I was just — out.”

“Out where, exactly —“

“— it doesn’t matter where, Mo!” He sighed again. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Morgan agreed. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Peter smiled slightly, despite his not-great mood. “How about why you’re turning green, Susan Murphy, AKA Ginormica.”

“Ah, I see you’re a man of culture.” Morgan smirked. “And, Peter, I’m turning green because of fucking _ducks_.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” He nodded, not having a single clue what she was on about. “Just a quick question; _what the fuck?”_

“I stress paint, okay?” She exclaimed, the hologram image shaking again as she moved. “And I am _very_ fucking _stressed_ — about you, and my mom, and your dad, and school, and this… camp thing that we’re going on, and so I decided to paint some cute little ducklings on a lake.”

The camera flipped, so a half painted canvas, covered in mainly blues and greens, came into view. Then Morgans face reappeared. “But de-stressing is just stressing me out even more.”

“Ah, okay.” Peter laughed. “Well, I gotta say, watching you freak out about stress painting stressing you out is definitely better than festering in my own thoughts for hours on end.”

“Pfft. You couldn’t stress paint this good if you tried.” Morgan teased. The hologram moved again, so that the top of a wall and a white ceiling were all that he could see. “I’m going to keep stress painting, but we can keep talking while I do that.”

**_MARCH 23, 2025, 9:09 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter couldn’t remember much of what happened in the days following the spider bite, just a bit over two months ago.

The whole thing was one long, fuzzy fever dream, where he was barely coherent enough to stutter out a single word, and in way too much pain to even sit up.

His dad had told him, once he had inexplicably recovered to — much more than — full health, that he had been out for for three days, with really bad flu symptoms, and then just… got better.

The man, obviously, didn’t know about the fact that he was only sick because of a spider bite, having thought it was the flu. He thought that Peter stopped wearing his glasses in favour of his contacts, rather than because he didn’t need them anymore, and had better than perfect vision now. And he especially didn’t know about the super-strength, stickiness, super-healing, powers part of Peters recovery.

Or his new gig as a _vigilante_.

That would _definitely_ not go down well with the man.

There were flashes of memories, from the days that he had been basically on his deathbed he was so sick — his dad, sitting by his bead, holding his clammy hands tightly, running his hands through his hair. His dad, eating pasta silently as he sat, watching him attentively. His dad, crying in the dark, as he coughed and sputtered.

Peter knew that his father loved him, and that all he did was worry about him. And that was the reason he had been so angry last night, but... fighting with his dad still sucked.

He left his room silently, and walked down to the kitchen.

His dad would be there, likely still mad, and probably not having slept.

And he was a little bit terrified.

The man was sitting silently at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand. His hair was messed up, and there were dark circles under his reddened eyes. He looked up tiredly when Peter stepped into the room, and took a long sip of his drink.

Peter walked further into the room, and sat awkwardly opposite his dad, keeping his head bowed. “Hey, dad.” He said quietly.

“Peter.” His dad acknowledged. He frowned, and pushed some sort of plastic cup in his direction. “You’re gonna need to fill that.”

Peter screwed up his face at the cup, and picked it up uncomfortably. “You want me to _pee_ in a _cup!?”_

“Just… humour me.” His face was set in a blank expression. “Go on, Peter.”

Peter looked back up at his dad, eyebrows raised, then glared back at the cup.

“Come on kid, _please_ , just…” He sighed loudly, and dragged a hand down his face, looking very exhausted. “Just do it, Pete.”

“Fine.” Peter huffed. He stood abruptly, and went to the bathroom. The plastic sup was kind of weird, it had a blue lid, and a bunch of coloured lines on it.

Super weird.

He filled the cup, nonetheless, and then took it back to his father, then slumped back into his chair. “There.” He grumbled. “ _Done_.”

“Kid…” His dads voice softened, and the mans expression became saddened. “We need to talk about this.”

“Yeah, well maybe we should have done that before you blindly assumed that I was _on drugs!”_ Peter snapped. “Because I am _not_ on drugs! I’m _not_ talking anything, I’m _not_ injecting myself, and I’m _not_ spending my nights drinking myself into oblivion!”

His dad made a noise, which was somewhere between a huff and a sigh. “I’m sorry Pete, but I… I _have_ _to_.” His dad buried his face in his hands, then looked back up at Peter. “And I know you think that I don’t trust you by this, but I just have to… I have to — _I can’t_ —“

Peter _raised_ one of his eyebrows, and his dad groaned.

“Look, kid… I did a _lot_ of dumb shit when I was a teenager, _and_ when I was in my twenties, _and_ in my thirties.”

“Hence why I’m here.” He muttered under his breath, and his dad stared at him sympathetically. He almost said something about Morgan, too, but luckily, he didn’t.

“Pete, no, don’t — don't say that.” His dad reached out, and ruffled his hair. “Your mother and I… well, what happened between us — it probably shouldn’t have happened… but it brought us you. We got you, and you are the best thing that has _ever_ happened to me, and so I can’t take chances here; _I can’t lose you.”_

Peter frowned, then stared straight ahead. His dad never, ever spoke about his mom. _Ever_.

And he knew who his mother was, now… but he still didn’t know all that much about her — other than the tiny amount that Morgan had said about her.

He still had to work with what he had.

“What was she like?” Peter asked quietly. “Its okay — if you don’t wanna — if you don’t wanna tell me… and I know I probably asked this way too much when I was little, but I —“

“Pete.” His dad cut off his ramble. “It’s fine, kid. You deserve to know something about your mother.” His dad smiled softly. “Your mom was the best, and she loved you so, _so_ much. She still does love you, so, _so_ much.”

Which… he understood. Sort of. Not really.Peter still didn’t understand why his mom left with Morgan, and why their parents kept them apart. _Tore_ them apart.

Separating him and Morgan was a _kind of_ pretty shitty thing for them to do. They were twins, and they grew up not having a clue that each other existed.

Which was not ideal. And also the reason that Peter and Morgan were in such an awkward situation right now.

Because their fucking stupid ass parents fucking separated them when they were toddlers, meaning they didn’t meet until they were _fourteen damn years old_ — and now they were stuck trying to figure out what to do with their newfound relation; should they try tell their parents that they found each other? Should they just keep… vibing? If they did tell their parents, what would happen — would they be re- separated? Would their mom and dad be mad at them? _What would happen?_

It was all a lot; everything with Morgan — especially on top of Spider-man, and this new fight thing with his dad, and just… ugh!

“There we go.” His dads voice pulled him out of his inner turmoil. He was looking at the side of the cup, below the coloured lines. “Two lines, you’re good.”

 _“See!_ You didn’t need to do that! I am not on drugs!” Peter crossed his arms, and stood back up, to walk over to the kitchen. “I’m gonna make a coffee. You want one?”

“Nah, kid, I’ve got one.” He raised his mug. “And, for the record, _this_ —“ he gestured to the cup. “Was just a precaution. But you still have to tell me where the hell you were all night”

Peter stirred his coffee. “I was okay.” He said finally, after a long pause. “I _am_ okay. That’s the truth.”

His dad frowned, then shook his head as though shaking away a thought.

“All I want is for you to be okay. And happy.”

Peter gave a small smile, and a sip of his coffee. “I am okay. And I’m happy.”

“That’s all I care about.”

His dad gave his a smile, but Peter could see something else hidden behind it. A bit of desperation, maybe. There was sadness behind the love and pride in his dads expression.

And Peter had an inkling that he knew why.

 _Morgan_.

His dad missed Morgan; just like his mom must miss him.

Peter and Morgan hadn’t just been away from each other for twelve odd years; their dad had been away from his daughter, and their mom from her son.

“ _Who_ was she?” He asked his dad, sitting back down at the table. “My mom, that is — you don’t — you don’t have to say, cause I know you don’t like talking about her, but I just… wish I knew. About her. And who she was.”

He knew that now, of course, but his dad didn’t know that.

His dad frowned a little, and it was still covered by a tone of sadness, though. “I don’t think I can tell you that, Pete. I’m sorry.”

Peter gave him a sad smile in return. “Don’t worry, dad. I get it. For whatever reason, my mom had to leave, and… that’s okay, I guess.”

The man returned the expression, and stood from his chair, pulling Peter up into a hug.

Peters dad held him tightly, cradling his head like he was a little kid again, burying his head in his hair. “I love you, son. _Tons_.”

Wow. His dad called him son twice in less than twelve hours — which was crazy. He always used a nickname.

“Love you too, dad.” Peter murmured into his dads chest.

Even though he was mad at his dad; for making him have a drug test, and separating him from his twin sister, and not telling him that his twin sister existed, or that his mom was Pepper Potts.

**_MARCH 25, 2025, 12:38 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Fourth period on Tuesdays was Physics, now. Morgan had to accept that. It wasn’t Visual Arts anymore, it was _Physics_ — hell, fourth period Vis Art wouldn’t happen for Maddie for a few hours. Her best friend was probably still asleep.

Her best friend also didn’t live under a fake identity, and have a super rich, super famous, super powerful mom, and a newfound twin brother, and an absent dad that turned out to be fucking Iron Man; Tony Stark.

But hey, that was just Morgans weird ass life — and she almost felt bad about how annoying she was finding it; because her brother had all that, plus his super rich, super famous, super powerful dad was a superhero, and the Uncle that he watched die, and he knew the Avengers, and for some reason got _shot_ last week…

… but then, that was still adding on to her weird life, because it was her twin brother that this was all happening to. Which was weird. And confusing. And a whole bunch of other things that she didn’t even want to try make sense of.

Yeah. Moving to New York was proving to be harder than she had thought it would be.

Fourth period Physics was easy enough, though. So that was a positive.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got one!” Morgan looked over at Cindy Moon and Betty Brant chatting next to them. She stood between Peter and Cindy as they made their way out of the classroom, and Betty spoke. “Kill, Marry, Fuck; Thor, Hulk, Iron Man.”

She felt Peter shudder beside her, and noticed the subtle side glance that Cindy sent his way.

Cindy was Peters oldest friend. She knew about his dad — she didn’t know about Morgan, but, then again, no-one did — and she was undoubtedly uncomfortable with the thought of playing KMF, with her oldest friends’ dad being one of the options.

She was uncomfortable with it — which was understandable, because he was her dad, too. Even if he didn’t _know_ that she knew that he was her dad.

“Uh —“ Cindy cut herself off to clear her that awkwardly. “Fuck Hulk, marry Thor, kill Iron Man.”

Morgan looked at her brother. And saw the discomfort written clearly on his face; those were _people_ that he had known his whole life, and his friends were doing that. Super awkward for them.

“See for me, it would be F Thor, kill Hulk, marry Iron Man.” Betty explained, and Morgan grimaced.

 _Noooo thankyouuu!_ She did _not_ want to be hearing this.

“What about you, Morgan?” Betty asked, and she groaned. She heard Peter let out a laugh beside her, and slapped his arm, out of view from the other girls.

“Uh — um — _well_ —“ She swallowed, slightly horrified — because one of the options was _her fucking father!_ “Kill Iron Man, fuck Thor, marry Hulk.”

“You guys are weird!” Betty complained. “Why do you both wanna kill Iron Man? He’s obviously the coolest one!”

“Dude. _Thor_.” Morgan pointed out, making Cindy laugh.

“Also, _Thor_.” Cindy added.

“Oh, would you — look at that!” Peter interrupted them, grabbing Morgans arm, and starting to pull her away from Cindy and Betty. “Ned needs to talk about our… _bio_ _homework!_ Remember? Let’s go!”

“Right, yeah the — _bio_ … _homework_.” She looked back at the girls, and shrugged. “Sorry, guys. Gotta sort out this homework. See ya !”

They both said their goodbyes as Morgan was dragged down the hallway, to the cafeteria, by her brother, only detouring to get their lunches. They sat down at what she knew by now was Peter and Neds regular table; Peter next to his best friend, Morgan across from them — Michelle Jones was hovering at the end of the table, but neither her brother, nor Ned, seemed to notice.

“Sorry about that, Mo.” Peter offered, opening a juice box. “Just… those conversations are always super uncomfortable.”

“Trust me; happens to all of us.”

She hoped that he understood, and the terrified look on her face confirmed it.

Guys she went to school with actually talked about her mom quite often — when they were on the topic of the rich, the famous and the powerful that they found attractive. And apparently single mother, mid-forties, way-too-busy-for-anything-but-work-and-her-daughter Pepper Potts ticked all their boxes… somehow they didn’t seem to realise that Pepper Potts kid was literally the same age as them; or that she overheard these sorts of conversations quite often.

 _Scarily_ often.

Next to Peter, Ned stared between them, confused, then pinned between them, trying to find an explanation for something. “So, I’m like, ninety percent sure that you guys are related.”

Peter groaned, running his hands through his hair and ducking his head, and Morgan facepalmed.

They were surprisingly bad at hiding things, it seemed, despite their whole lives revolving around hiding who they really were.

“Guys?” Ned urged. “Come on, dude, you gotta tell me! Evidence is pointing to yes, so —“

“Yes, Ned.” Morgan interrupted him calmly. She learnt how to talk to people from her mom, the Pepper Potts. She could handle an overexcited junior. “Peter and I are related.”

“We, uh — her grandma, Gwen, has a brother, and that brother has two daughters, one of whom is my mom.” Peter explained slowly. He was clearing grasping at straws, trying to keep Morgans identity intact, and not outright say that their mom was Pepper Potts, but still explain that they were related.

They were obscurely related cousins now, she supposed.

That was still less weird than them being twins, though — it would definitely make Ned ask less questions.

“Woah!” Ned exclaimed. “You found out who your mom is? That is so cool, dude! Who is she?”

Peter groaned, burying his head back in his hands, and Morgan lay her head on the table in exasperation.

“Ned.” She said, looking him right in the eyes, and making him freeze. “We can’t tell you who my Aunt is, because of… reasons. But… if you really think about Peters’ dad, it kind of makes sense that she’s his mom.”

“Dude! What does that even mean?” He turned to Peter. “You can’t just tell me that you found your mom, and then not tell me who she is! That's insane.”

“Sorry, Ned.”

“Peter! This is the coolest thing ever, though! You’ve gotta tell me!”

“This is almost as bad as Betty and Cindy.” Peter complained, setting his head down in exhaustion. “Ned, I can’t tell you until further notice — she doesn’t know that I found her, and some other stuff, too… so I can’t say who she is. Not yet.”

“Fine.” Ned agreed, after a drawn out pause. “Anyway, dude, on other stuff — I’ll just make you tell me about your mom later on when we’re making the Lego Death Star, and —“

Ned kept talking, but it was obvious to Morgan that her brother wasn’t listening to his best friend — instead, he was staring at something over her shoulder; Liz Allan.

“Did Liz get a new top?” He asked Ned absent-mindedly, and Morgan had to stifle her laughter behind her hand.

Her brother had a crush on the Decathlon captain. Of course he did.

“No, we’ve seen that one before… but never with that skirt.” Ned replied, and Morgan rolled her eyes.

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy.”

_“Too late.”_

All of them turned to the voice — Michelle Jones was still sitting on the end of their table, watching them with a blank expression. “You guys are losers.”

Ned looked offended, and Peter raised his hand in a _‘what?’_ gesture. “Then why do you sit with us?” Ned asked.

“Because I don’t have any friends.” Michelle said blandly. “And new girl doesn’t seem that bad, so —“ She shrugged, and turned back to her book.

Peter and Ned still looked confused, but Morgan smiled at the other girl.

Maybe they would become friends when she joined the Decathlon… because that was a thing she was going to do.

They all sat eating for a moment, as Peter looked at something on his totally-not-magical-voodoo-thing phone, and his face fell. He let out a load groan, and sunk his head onto the table.

“You okay, Pete?” Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows at him in amusement. “You’re just looking a little bit… _unalived_.”

“I am going to murder my father.” He grumbled against the table, making her laugh silently at her brothers smushed up face.

“Maybe let’s… not… murder… our dads…” Ned said slowly. “I mean, especially not your dad, he’s —“

Ned cut himself off, his eyes flickering to Morgan. “— he’s your dad. Yeah. Good old _Richard Parker_. Can’t murder him.”

She rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness, and shook her head. “Ned, dude. I know — about his dad. How the fuck else would I know that we’re related?”

“ _Ooooh_ , yeah, I forgot about that.” Ned chuckled. “Well, that means you know even more why he shouldn’t kill his dad — which, why are you doing that, by the way?”

Peter lifted his head to stare blankly across the cafeteria. “He’s going on a business trip. And a wedding, too. In India… He told me he wouldn’t be going over for that wedding for another week, but he is. So now I’m mad.”

“Wow, it’s as if he has a job, and business partners who’s weddings he’s obligated to go to.” Morgan muttered under her breath, electing to ignore the glare that Peter shot her. “Come on, you get to stay with your Aunt though, right? That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it is cool.”

Peter whispered something that sounded scarily like _‘makes it easier for me to get stabbed again, yeet’_ , but he didn’t acknowledge the look of horror that she sent his way.

She would figure out his weird secret some day. Soon, hopefully.

Plus, he was her _twin brother_ — if anyone was going to find out what was up with him, it would be her, surely.

_She would figure out Peter Stark._

**_MARCH 25, 2025, 6:49 PM — MAY PARKERS APARTMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Patrol was _weird_ , to say the least.

It was mostly uneventful — until he ran into those goddamn mother fucking weirdos with the crazy weapons.

 _Really_ crazy weapons — and that was saying something, because he lived with Iron Man. Nothing was crazy to him.

Yet this was.

The weapons… well, he didn’t really get a good look at them, because he was a bit busy fighting, then busy saving Delmar, but — but, they didn’t seem normal.

Almost like they were made from alien tech.

But then, that brought on the question; where did these third-rate ATM robbers get Alien Technology from? Bad Queens robbers having high-tech weapons would be weird enough, but Alien? That was slightly (very) insane.

Peter was just glad that he hadn’t gotten hurt and/or killed — because he seemed to be getting very close to that quite a lot recently.

And, added bonus, he didn’t lose his backpack. Which he had also been doing a lot lately.

He swung back to Mays, not bothering to change back into his normal clothes on the way. He often went to Mays to patch himself up after patrol, before heading home, and he had never needed to wear his normal clothes while ‘visiting’ before.

In hindsight, that would have been a good idea.

He could already smell Mays burning meatloaf, when he crawled into his room through the open window. He spent enough time staying at his Aunts place — always had — to warrant him having his own proper bedroom there. It was essentially his second home.

Briefly, Peter wondered if Morgan had been included in the constantly-at-Mays thing — after all, they hadn’t been separated until they were two and a half, and their infant years were the times of Iron Mans biggest disasters; the Stark Expo, and New York in 2012, and the Mandarin incident, had all happened before they turned three.

Honestly, Iron Man was probably the reason Peters parents were no longer together. And the more he theorised it, the more sense it seemed to make.

He couldn’t risk May seeing him in his suit.

To be fair, his ‘ _suit_ ’ was just blue sweatpants and sweater, with a sleeveless red hoodie he’d drawn a spider on, and a red mask — sue him for knowing that a new super-hero with a crazy advanced, Stark-tech-like suit, would just make his dad suspect him. He could risk making his web shooters and their fluid, and the eyes of his mask, but that was it.

His main goal was to stop his dad from finding out. And if May found out, she would tell his dad. So May _couldn’t_ find out.

He crawled across the ceiling silently, and carefully closed the door with a web, then lowered hims

And then hell broke loose.

There was a loud crash, and he spun around to see Ned sitting on his bed, lego death star broken on the floor in front of him, jaw agape. Shit.

“What was that?” May called from the kitchen, as he started to tear his suit off.

“Uh — its nothing! Nothing!” He exclaimed, rushing to get it all off before his Aunt saw him.

“You’re the Spider-Man.” Ned whispered, staring at him in amazement. “From youtube.”

 _“I’m not._ I’m not!” Peter insisted, still attempting to peel his suit off.

“You were on the ceiling!”

“No, I wasn’t! _Ned_ , what’re you doing in my room!?”

“Well, May let me in! You said we were gonna finish the Death Star!”

Peter was just in his boxers now, his suit thrown into the corner of his room carelessly. “You can’t just bust into my room!”

Mays laughter sounded from the hall, and she swung his door open, standing in the doorway and trying to wave away the smoke that was surrounding her. Herr jumped back, so that he was awkwardly standing next to Ned in his underwear.

“That turkey meatloaf recipe is a disaster!” She laughed, letting her hair down from its bun and grinning at them. “Lets go to dinner. Thai? Ned, you want Thai?”

“Y-yes..” Ned mumbled, but Peter spoke over him.

“No! He’s got a thing!”

“A thing… to do… after..”

They both smiled at his Aunt awkwardly, and she started to back out of the room. “Okay… maybe put on some clothes.”

Peter grimaced, grabbing a grey sweatshirt from his chair, and she pulled the door shut again.

The second they were sure she was gone, Ned spoke up, gesturing in the direction she had gone. “Oh, she doesn’t know!”

“Nobody knows!” Peter hissed, stepping back away from him and pulling the jumper on.

“Your _dad_ doesn’t even know?”

Peter groaned, and ran his hands through his hair. _“No!_ No one can know!” He came closer to his best friend again. “You can’t tell anybody about this. You gotta keep it a secret!”

Neds face fell. “Secret? _Why?”_

“You know what she’s like! What my dad’s like! If they find out people try and kill me every night, they’re not gonna let me do this anymore! Jesus, especially dad! He would actually fucking _kill me_ , dude!” He looked at his friend, pleading. “Come on, Ned. Please!”

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” Ned shook his head in astonishment. “I’ll level with you… I don’t think I can keep this a secret, it’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me! Peter!”

“May cannot know!” He exclaimed, pointing to the door. “Dad cannot know! With everything that’s happened — with dad, and with Uncle Rhodey, and —“ Peter swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. “— and everything that’s happened with May, and with, Ben, I — Please.”

Neds face morphed into sympathy. “Okay.”

“Just swear it, okay?”

“I swear.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Peter sighed, and ran his hands through his hair again. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

“Can I try the suit on?” Ned asked, as he picked it up, and stuffed it on top of his wardrobe.

“No.”

“How’s it work? Is it magnets? How do you shoot the strings?” Ned asked.

“Imma tell you all about this at school tomorrow, okay?” Peter ushered his friend toward the door.

“Great.”

Peter paused as he opened the door. “And you can’t say anything about this to Morgan, okay?”

“What?” Ned asked confused.

“ _Morgan_.” Peter repeated. “You cannot tell her.”

“Morgan _Stacy?_ Like, the new girl?”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell —“ Peter sighed, and let it go, instead pushing Ned through the door. “Just get outta here.”

He shut the door behind Ned, and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his face with his hands.

What a _fucking_ mess.

_**MARCH 25, 2025, 7:03 PM — PRACHYA THAI RESTAURANT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.** _

He poked at his food, staring at it and not even considering eating it.

Ned had found out. His dad was this close to finding out, and so was May. And that would just cause even more problems that he already had.

He had way too much on his plate right now (metaphorically speaking), and his dad and Aunt finding out about Spider-Man would not help his stress levels at all.

“What's the matter?”

He glanced up at Aunt May, and grimaced, still poking at his Thai.

“Thought you loved larb.” She paused in her eating, and looked at him over her glasses, very obviously concerned. “It’s too larby? Not larby _enough?”_

He kept staring at his plate.

“How many time to I have to say _larb_ before… you _talk to me?”_

Peter sat up abruptly, trying to hide his stress and annoyance with a forced smile.

“You know I _larb_ you.”

He sighed, still poking at his dinner. “I’m just _stressed_ … school, and dad’s in India for all that stuff, and I’m tired, it just… a _lot_.” He frowned into his food.

“Dads trip?” She asked, sympathy lacing into her tone. “He’s only gonna be gone two weeks. Back before we know it. Plus, you’re leaving for camp on Thursday, and you’ll be having so much fun in Boston that you won’t even notice he’s gone —“

She kept talking, and Peter smiled at her, before his attention was drawn away by the TV sitting on the wall behind her.

_“Breaking News; the beloved Queens institution, Delmars sandwiches, was destroyed earlier tonight in an explosion, after an ATM robbery was thwarted by Queens’ own colourful local crime stopper, the Spider-Man.”_

“What?” May asked, seeing that he was distracted. She turned in her seat to watch the news report too.

_“As the Spider-Man attempted to foil their heist, a powerful blast was set off, slicing through the bodega across the street. Miraculously, no one was harmed.”_

May swallowed, and Peter heard as her heart beat sped up slightly. She turned back to him, serious. “If you spot something like that happening, you turn and you run the other way.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “I don’t care who your dad is; _he_ would agree with me.” She added as an afterthought.

May was, undoubtedly, more than accustomed to his nature of trying to run into situations bigger than he could handle. She was the primary female role model in his life; who he was with probably thirty percent of the time, and had raised him almost as much as his dad had. She probably knew him better than he knew himself.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of _course_.” He assured her.

“Six blocks away from us!” She exclaimed, waving her hand in the general direction of the TV behind her, while she picked up more food with her chopsticks. “And poor _Delmar_ , his place…”

She trailed off.

Ben had loved Delmars. He used to take Peter there whenever he picked him up from school, when his dad was away, and May was at work, or they were just having some nice, Uncle-Nephew bonding time. After Ben died, Mr Delmar had been super nice to May and Peter, and his Aunt was now quite good friends with the owner.

That was the thing about his Aunt; nobody seemed to know, or care, that she was the first child of Howard and Maria Stark… and after fourteen years of life, Peter was still undecided as to whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Whichever it was, his Aunt didn’t seem to mind. She was very blasé about the whole thing, but she seemed content with it.

One of the servers walked over to them, and placed a plate of rice next to May. “Sticky rice pudding.”

“Oh, we didn’t order that.” She said, looking up at the man.

“It’s on the house.” He assured her, smiling.

“Oh! Thanks!” She smiled at him before he walked away again, then moved the dessert closer to her. “That’s nice of him.”

Peter chuckled, a bit awkwardly. “I think _he_ larbs _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))


	5. PART FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, so... three things :)
> 
> -morgan has glasses, peter used to, but spider DNA, blah blah blah... just know that her glasses are almost always implied. 
> 
> -i literally jjust based their camp on the one that i go too... like, idk if america does school camps -- like, ive never actually heard of them in american movies and stuff, but surely they do exist... right?
> 
> -THIS IS IMPORTANT -- hi, id just like to remind everyone that you are all loved, and amazing, and there are so many people that care for you... if you feel as though there is no escape for you, please talk to someone, because this world is so much better with you in it, and so many people care so, so much <3

_**MARCH 27, 2025, 10:17 AM — SCHOOL BUS, NEAR NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT.** _

“How long has it been, again?” Morgan, asked, banging her head onto the back of the seat in front of them. Peter sighed, and rolled his eyes as he stared at his page of notes.

“Been on the road for almost two hours now.”

“So we’re almost half way.” His sister sighed, and turned her head to look at him. “This bus _stinks_.”

“All busses stink.” He grumbled back, scribbling down formulas for his web fluid in his notebook — he was trying to make the fluid a bit stronger, so he would need to test out a few different things when he got the chance.

Morgan had no idea how awful the smell really was when she said the bus stank; she didn’t have enhanced senses like him, so she couldn’t smell absolutely everything in the air around him — so many (way too many) different types of food shoved in the bottom of peoples bags. So many different body sprays and deodorants and toothpastes and shampoos. Plus fifty odd people that had been sitting in a badly ventilated school bus for almost two hours.

The mixture of it all was overbearingly awful… and making Peter seriously consider throwing himself out a window.

He wouldn’t be too badly injured by doing that, either, so it was a plausible option.

“What are you even doing?” She asked, staring at his page with raised eyebrows.

“Chemistry.” He said. Peter was concentrating, and that meant that he wasn’t overly talkative, unlike usual. “Just something I’m working on with my dad.”

“Huh.” Morgan flopped back in her seat, and turned behind her, to where Ned and Abe Brown were sitting. “What are you guys doing? Peter here is being boring, my phone’s only on forty percent, and I need some entertainment.”

“We were just… playing a game.” Ned said from behind them — which was kind of a dumb thing to say; they had been playing a _very loud_ game of Uno for the last twenty eight minutes, and the entire bus knew it.

Peter hated to admit that he was grumpy… that was a result of another patrol accident last night. Some (actual literal) crackhead had tried to strangle him when he foiled a drug deal, and his neck was sore as hell.

And very bruised — hence why he was wearing a turtleneck.

And why he had so many packed for this trip; bad bruising like this would take… a few days to heal completely.

Morgan started to talk loudly to the two boys behind them, smirking at Peter occasionally, obviously trying to irritate him.

After what felt like hours — but was more like five minutes — of the three of them talking, Peter groaned, slammed his notebook shut a bit aggressively, and leant back in his bus seat. “Fine.” He muttered, rolling his head to the side to glare at his twin. “You win. I’ll stop doing stuff.”

“Yes! I knew I could break you! That was _easy!”_ She grinned, looking back over her shoulder at Abe and Ned. “Look how easily I got him to stop doing his chemistry! I have done the impossible, on this day, and I —“

“Okay, okay, okay, we get it!” He cut her off. “Lets just… not do that. Why were you so desperate for me to stop working?”

Morgan glanced around them, obviously trying to check and see if anyone would listen to them, making him roll his eyes. Ned and Abe were already back to their game, and nobody else around them was interested in their conversation in the slightest.

Morgan, too, seemed to realise this, and sighed in relief. “Okay, cool. No one gives a shit about anything either of us do. That’s a relief.”

“So far, duh.” He replied blandly. “Seriously, how do you think I haven’t been figured out yet? No one pays me any attention.”

“Which is working in our favour. A lot!” Her grin brightened, and Peter couldn’t help but feel happy about it — maybe twin telepathy actually was a thing; the whole ‘I feel my twins pain and emotions because we’re just that connected’ thing.

He just hoped, for her sake, that she couldn’t feel his pain. That would be awful for her.

“Alright, so…” Morgan paused dramatically. “We need a plan. A good plan.”

He stared at her, confused. “What the fuck for?”

“For what to do about mom and dad!” She hissed in a low whisper. “We can’t just keep going, pretending that we don’t know each other exist, and not telling our parents that we know we exist, even when we know we exist!”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a fun couple of conversations.” Peter raised his eyebrows at her. “What do you reckon we do? You’ve obviously been thinking about it a bunch — what have you thought of?”

“Okay, so…” She breathed in dramatically, but Peter cut her off.

“Parliamo italiano. Anche se siamo vaghi, non possiamo far sentire a nessuno questa conversazione.” He said quickly.

_[(We'll speak Italian. Even if we're vague, we can't let anyone hear this conversation)]_

Morgan nodded, before she began to speak. “Finora ho solo un'idea; tiriamo un taglio ‘She's The Man’ su di loro con ‘It Takes Two’!”

_[(I only really have one idea so far; we pull a ‘She’s The Man’-slash-‘It Takes Two’ on them!)]_

She’s The Man — Viola takes her twin brothers place at boarding school so she can make their soccer team, and prove her shitty ex and coach wrong. Not exactly his first choice in movies, but he’d seen it, and it was alright.

And It Takes Two — identical strangers, rich-girl-Alyssa and orphan-Amanda, accidentally switch places (then purposely switch places) and set Alyssas dad and Amandas case worker up with each other.

So, Morgans idea wasn’t all that crazy; switch places, and possibly get their parents back together.

It was something that they had both speculated. The way that neither of their parents had returned to the dating scene, ever… and, they had (maybe, possibly, a tiny bit) discussed how they could try get them back together. Because all evidence pointed to their mom and dad still silently being in love with each other.

The idea was ridiculously optimistic — Peter knew that, and so did his sister — but it was what they had both been denying desperately wanting their entire lives, and so they may as well just try. Because trying, no matter how slim the chances of it working were, was something they had both been raised to do.

… which, in itself, was _also_ insane; insane how similarly they had been raised, and grown up, despite being completely separated, and on opposite sides of the country. Insane how all of their skills and interests — minus Spider-Man, obviously… unless Morgan was also secretly a vigilante — seemed to be the same; engineering, art, chemistry, old rock music, boxing.

So very insane.

_All of it._

His sister was staring at him expectantly, and she began to tap her nails against the top of her phone nervously. “Pete? Thoughts?” She switched back to English.

He shrugged, weighing the pros and cons idea in his head.

All in all, it was an… interesting proposition, and Peter would very much be lying if he tried to convince himself — or literally anyone else, for that matter — that he wasn’t really wanting to say yes to his sisters very vague, extremely impulsive plan idea thing.

Pro, he could meet his mom, finally — con, he would have to pretend to be Morgan to do so. Pro, they could probably eventually get their parents back on speaking terms — con, historically, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts meeting after 2012 had always seemed to end terribly, so it could end awfully. Pro, they might finally both have full families, with both their parents, and actually being around each other, without having to pretend they hadn’t found each other — con, the perceived hatred between their parents almost definitely wouldn’t disappear the second that their kids, that they had separated as toddlers, said ‘hey, we found each other and now we’re switching places to try and get you to talk to each other!’

That would be a very, very fun conversation.

In theory, the negatives seemed to outweigh the positives.

But in reality, there was only one real negative; Morgan and Peters parents hated each other, and the two of them being forced to interact could end catastrophically.

That was all that was really holding them back — the whole… pretending to be his female twin sister could be a bit of a strange experience… it would be pretty uncomfortable, pretending to be a girl just so that he could spend some time with his mom.

But he wanted to spend time with his mom. And he knew that Morgan just wanted to meet and spend time with their dad. He would be pretending to be her, and she would be pretending to be him, and it would be for the greater good of the rest of their lives, Peter supposed.

They would Mulan their way into having a slightly less dysfunctional family than they already had.

The sound of Morgans’ nervous tapping became more intense, and he could practically feel the nerves radiation off of her.

He blinked slowly, then looked up at her, his mind made up. “That is a very interesting proposition.” He said, raising his eyebrows and smirking. “And my answer is here.”

He paused, not moving for a second, to watch his sisters reaction. Her features seemed to tense, seizing up in anticipation, and he quickly finished. “ _Yes_. My answer is _yes_.”

“Yes?” She asked, sort of hesitantly, her eyes widening in… gratitude, amazement, so many emotions. “Wh- what do you mean, yes?”

“Yes. As in, facciamolo, cazzo!” Peter easily slipped back into the Italian. If not to keep their identities intact, then to confuse the fuck out of their classmates.

_[(As in, let’s fucking do this!)]_

“Facciamolo, cazzo, like, facciamolo, cazzo, facciamolo, cazzo?”

_[(Let’s fucking do this, like, lets fucking do this, let’s fucking do this?)]_

“I-I mean, that’s… generally what-what someone means, when they say facciamolo, cazzo…” He paused. “…or, like, давай, блядь, сделаем это…”

 _[(Let’s fucking do this_ [Italian] _… or, like, let’s fucking do this_ [Russian] _…)]_

“Alright.” Morgan grinned, all the tension slipping away from her. She relaxed, and kept forward in her seat to hug him. “Большое спасибо, брат! Я так тебя люблю!”

_[(Thank you so much, brother! I love you so much!)]_

“Я тоже тебя люблю, сестра.” He murmured in reply, hugging her back fiercely. “Я тоже тебя люблю, сестра.”

_[(I love you too, sister. This will be... entertaining. Maybe even fun. Who knows!)]_

“О брат.” Morgan scoffed, then let go of him, still glowing with happiness. “Это будет здорово! Эпично!”

_[(Oh, brother. This is going to be mighty! Epic!)]_

Peter snorted, and leant his forehead in his hand in a way very reminiscent of his father. “Сестра, сестра, сестра, сестра.” He muttered the word like a mantra. “Во-первых, ты говоришь как Тор, что, мягко говоря, странно. А во-вторых ... Вы абсолютно правы, это будет здорово!”

_[(Sister, sister, sister, sister. First off, you sound like Thor, which is -- weird, to say the least. And second off... you're absolutely right, this will be great!)]_

“Так и будет!” She agreed. “Кроме того, нам, вероятно, следует снова по-английски.”

_[(It will! Also, we should probably English again.)]_

Peter laughed loudly. “Look, when you say that, I don’t know if you’re just a bit rusty, or if you’re purposely speaking like a dumb dumb.”

“I am _good Russia speak.”_ Morgan deadpanned, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“I am _better_ Russia speak.” He argued, and she glared at him — he knew that expression from his own face. An argument, though an extremely dumb and sarcastic one, was about to begin.

Peter was finding it slightly terrifying how similar they looked — how they expressed their emotions in almost the exact same way.

It also acted as proof that to some extent, twins personalities were determined by genetics, and not environment; even though he and Morgan also acted as proof that environment could change a lot too.

“Yeah, but you got taught to Russia speak by an —“

“Морган! Люди!” He hissed.

_[(Morgan! People!)]_

“Верно, извините.” She also switched back to Russian, still arguing despite her apology. “Но вас учил настоящий русский — мне пришлось учиться в три часа ночи в темноте!”

_[(Right, right, sorry. But you were taught by an actual Russian — I had to teach myself at three in the morning in the dark!)]_

“Хорошо, давай сделаем это! Давайте кричать друг на друга по русски про русский язык!” He exclaimed. Peter felt a few pairs of eyes on them, thanks to his sixth sense, but continued anyway. “Нам пора в Россию! Кричите друг на друга по русски про русских в России!”

_[(Alright, let's do this! Let’s yell in each other in Russian about Russia! We should go to Russia! Yell at each other in Russian about Russian in Russia!)]_

Morgan rolled her eyes at him. Half yelling at each other about absolute nonsense seemed to be... just a thing that they did now. It was becoming an integral part of their relationship; angrily saying meaningless shit to one another.

And it was great.

“Давай сделаем это! Давай!”

_[(Let’s do it! Bring it on!)]_

“Морган! Это серьёзно! Если мы переключимся, вы будете рядом с моей тетей Нэт — вам придется получить ваш русский точно так же, как у меня — как, акцент тоже! Это будет нелегко.” He stopped the playful argument with those words, speaking in a much more serious tone.

_[(Morgan! This is serious! If we switch, you are going to be around my Aunt Nat — you will have to get your Russian exactly like mine — like, the accent too! That is not going to be easy.)]_

Morgan frowned. “Yeah, it’s gonna be super annoying — speaking like I’m actually from New York. _Ew_.”

He raised one eyebrow at her expression. “Well, I’m gonna have to speak like a _Californian!_ A fucking _Californian!”_

“You should be glad.” Morgan scoffed. “At least I don’t have a valley girl accent!” She used an exaggerated voice for the last words, making Peter snort in laughter.

“That is exactly what you sound like.” Pete deadpanned, then used the same over the top valley girl voice. “I’m Morgan, and I’m from Malibu, California! I live with my mom, and we have a cat!”

Morgan slapped his arm, glaring at him. “First, bro, I don’t sound like that — use that accent, you’ll be found out immediately. And second — _fuck you.”_

“Well, fuck you too.” He returned the glare. She nodded again, slowly, before Peter continued lowly. _“Valley girl.”_

“Oh, shut up!”

**_MARCH 27, 2025, 2:53 PM — CHESTNUT HILL RECREATIONAL CAMP, OUTSKIRTS OF BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS._ **

“Dude, seriously, don’t do that.”

Peter poked his tongue out at her, taking another huge bite of his cookie. “Why the fuck not, man?”

“My sanity.” Morgan said slowly. “Also, my sanity, and, did I mention, my sanity?”

“Yeah, you said that. A couple times.” Peter groaned. “I don’t see the problem with it.”

“Dude!” She flung her arms up, and Peter blinked at her in surprise. “You can’t _beat up Happy_ to see if he can tell the difference between our fighting styles!”

“Come on, Mo, it would be so funny though!”

“No, it wouldn’t!”

“Yes, it would!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

 _“Peter!”_ She groaned. “If we’re doing this, there needs to be boundaries!” She started counting off on her fingers. “ _One_ , no touching my oil paints, _two_ , no using my phone, _three_ , no beating up our uncle!”

Peter grimaced. “Look, I can’t beat up Hap, but I’m gonna need your phone. If we want this to work, that is — dad would die if I didn’t have my phone, and if you get to have mine, I get to have yours.”

“You are insufferable.” Morgan glared at her brother, and he finger gunned in response.

“Right back ‘atcha, sis.” He winked, and she groaned.

“No, no, no, okay? _Don’t_ wink. Don’t do that.” She exclaimed, reaching forward to whack him.

“Oh shit!” Peter looked worried for a moment, then smirked at her. “You’re gonna have to learn to wink like a Stark.”

“Fuck.” She whispered. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“You love me.” Peter teased her, grinning.

“Only because we literally shared a womb for nine months.”

“But you do still love me — even if begrudgingly.”

“ _Begrudgingly_ being the keyword.”

“Well, _I_ love _you_ , my dearest sister.”

Morgan gave him a noncommittal glare, before sighing, and giving in. “Love you too, bro.”

They hadn’t exactly done anything on their camp, yet. Just been given dorm assignments and put their bags away — now, they were all sitting around the big grassy area in front of the eating hall, having cookies; afternoon tea.

Morgan was in a good room; her, Michelle Jones, Betty Brant, Seymour O’Reilly, Sally Avril and Cindy — basically just all the girls that Peter had introduced her to; her potential new friends.

Their dorm was the smallest, with only six of them. The other two girls dorms had ten in them each, and the boys dorms had nine and ten people in them. Peter was in the smaller boys dorm.

The rooms themselves were… interesting. They were seven of them, all connected by a hallway in the old building, with both a door to the hallway, and a door to outside each.

They were old. Old wooden rooms, with little locked up toilets in them that you couldn’t get into. The doors were old and heavy, with little, murky windows in them that you couldn’t properly see through, and heavy locks that the teachers had prohibited them from locking. Their rooms had bunk beds — five in each — but in theirs, only three of the beds were being used.

The building was also had a ‘meeting room’ in it, right at the end, next to the teachers rooms. It was outside of this that the grass area they were sitting on was, and on the other side of the grass was the ‘cafeteria’.

Chestnut Hill Recreational Camp was once a Quarantine Station, made in the early 1800’s to isolate people with plagues and infectious diseases from the people at the mainstream hospitals closer to Boston and Cambridge. They stopped using it in the 1950s, and made it into a school camp in the 80’s.

The camp people may have given them a lecture on the history of the camp before they got to have their afternoon tea — juice boxes and cookies. Which, admittedly, was pretty good, for camp food.

Better than the sandwiches her old middle school had given them in sixth grade, when they went on their ‘end of middle school’ camp, in eighth grade. Morgan hoped that the food stayed this good for the next seven days.

Camp was the perfect opportunity for her and her brother to make their plan — to she’s the man/it takes two their parents. They had a week there, mainly doing like, team building exercises and stuff at the camp, also visiting MIT and Harvard museums, and getting some time in the city. Plenty of time to successfully become one another, so that their dad could, unknowingly, pick up Morgan at the end, and their mom, also unknowingly, pick up Peter at the end.

A perfect plan.

If they could successfully execute it, that was.

And to do that, they needed some pretty intensive planning, good disguises, and to know absolutely everything about each others lives.

They only had seven days to do that — Morgan reckoned they could do it, though. They were the kids of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark, though; they could do anything.

“Alright, _fine_ — if you promise not to fight Happy, you can have my phone…” Peter grinned, but Morgan continued. “But, you _can’t_ text anyone, you _can’t_ watch anything that I wouldn’t watch on Netflix or anything, and you _have_ to keep up all of my streaks on Snapchat, got it?”

“Got it.” Peter agreed, giving her a thumbs up, and winking again. “Don’t text, only watch rom coms, keep streaks. Easy peasy.”

“Hey!” Morgan exclaimed, slightly horrified. “I do not only watch rom coms — Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office, Horror Movies, Jurassic Park, Men in Black, occasional rom coms — only _occasional!”_

“Fine, fine, fine. Sorry.” Peter muttered. “Just so you know, Star Wars is my favourite. I love Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the Office, too. And Men in Black. Jurassic Park is pretty good, Horror is fun… yeah.”

“Star Wars is your favourite movie?” Morgan raised her eyebrow at him, slightly disgusted. _Star Wars? Really?_ “How are we related?”

“Star Wars is my favourite franchise, not movie.” Peter corrected her pointedly. “And, as to the question of how we’re related, once upon a time, many many moons ago, my dad and your mom did this thing that adults —“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Pete!” Morgan cut over him, covering her ears. “So, if Star Wars is your favourite franchise, but not movie, what’s your favourite movie?”

Peter smiled gently. “Iron Giant.” Okay, that was not quite what Morgan was expecting. She raised an eyebrow, so that he continued. “… when I was a kid, I thought Dean was like my dad, and the giant was his suits, and I was Hogarth. I loved it.”

Morgan laughed softly. “Who’s Annie, then?” She questioned, smirking at him.

She liked that movie, too — she had imagined it a bit different, when she was a kid; her mom was Annie, she was Hogarth, and Dean was her dad, finally showing up.

Peter grimaced. “I mean, if Annie and Dean didn’t end up together, she could be May, but they do, so she can’t be. I dunno.” He laughed. “What about you? Favourite movie?”

“Oooh, that’s a hard one.” Morgan exhaled, dramatically. “I mean, childhood movie, probably either… How To Train Your Dragon, Bolt, or Tangled.”

Peter made low sounds of agreement after each name, before Morgan continued. “But now… probably… oh! _Oceans Eight!_ I love that movie!”

“Oceans Eight?” Peter asked, looking quite confused. “Isn’t it Oceans 11? And 12? And 13?”

She laughed at him, rolling her eyes. “Oceans Eight, 2018 — Danny Oceans’ sister Debbie gets let out of prison, then successfully steals a bunch of Jewels from the MET gala. It is iconic. You need to watch it — especially if you’re gonna successfully pass as me.”

“Huh.” Her brother nodded. “Sounds cool — I’ll watch it tonight.”

“You better.” She laughed. “It’s great. Iconic. It will change your life.”

“Yeah, but if I watch that, you have to watch Star Wars.”

“No.” Morgan murmured, her jaw dropping.

“Yes.” Peter smirked, winking at her. “All of them.”

“No.” She muttered again. “ _Brother_ , no! You can’t do that to me! Do you _not love me at all?”_

“Nope.” Peter shot back, teasingly. “My _demonic_ sister doesn’t appear to like Star Wars. Disgraceful.”

“Well, my dearest brother hasn’t seen Oceans Eight. Even more disgraceful.”

“Well, look at that.” Peter laughed, grinning. “We’re both disgraces!”

“Indeed.”

“Wait, no, don’t — don’t say that!” Peter said, stumbling over his words a little, and staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re awesome! You’re not — I am, but you’re not!”

“No, I am, and you’re not!” She argued back — because, like her brother, she didn’t want her twin to think he wasn’t good enough. “And — and I was kidding, I mean — sarcasm, right?”

Peter snorted, and flopped back so he was laying down, covering his face with his hands. “We’re both messes, aren’t we?”

“Yeah… but—“ she emphasised the word. “—we’re twin messes, and we have two parents.”

Her brother let his hands slide off his face, and tilted his head to grin at her. “Twin messes with two parents.”

Morgan grinned, too.

They were twin messes with two parents.

And, in a week, she would get to meet her dad.

_**MARCH 29, 2025, 3:37 PM — SOUTH SHORE PLAZA, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS.** _

“Well, we may as well just fucking get this over with.” Peter grumbled, staring up at the store in front of them — _‘Emerys Hair and Beauty’_. “Lets get us some fucking wigs.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to get you a bra, too.” Morgan laughed beside him, also looking up at the store. “That’ll be fun. And I’ll need a binder.”

“Double fun.” He said noncommittally. “Can’t wait to wear a wig constantly, indefinitely.”

“It’s not indefinitely.” Morgan countered, finally pulling the door of the shop open. “We’ll switch back every day at school, then we can switch back to our own lives once we finally confront our parents — which is also gonna be fun.”

“Oh, super fun.” Peter agreed with a half heartened smirk. “Can’t wait for that conversation.”

“…they’re gonna kill us, aren’t they?” Morgan murmured, as the walked into the store, and awkwardly stood in front of the empty counter.

“ _Definitely_.” He muttered. “Do you reckon there’s anyone working here?”

Morgan shrugged, looking around the — admittedly pretty big — shop, searching for a person.

There wasn’t one.

“Maybe we should press the bell?” She asked him, raising an eyebrow at the button on the counter.

“Yeah.” He stepped forward, and pressed it, jumping slightly when he heard the loud ringing coming from the door behind the corner. Morgan didn’t react, so he guessed that it was just his senses helping him hear it.

Peter had watched Oceans 8 the first night of camp — it was a good movie; he liked it quite a lot. His sister had been complaining about Star Wars since yesterday.

According to her near-constant complaining, she was watching them in the ‘proper’ order, rather than release order — saying that she had forced herself to watch the first four (Episode I, Episode II, Clone Wars and a Star Wars Story) on Thursday night, then had watched the next four (Episode III, Revelations, Rogue One and Episode IV) Friday night. It was Saturday now.

And she seemed to be hating them a lot, making Peter truly question how they were twins. How they had nearly identical genetic make up.

That must be the environment part of personality, rather than the genetic part, he supposed — his dad had always liked Star Wars, even if not as obsessively as he did, and Morgans ranting about the franchise had shown very clearly that her — their — mom also wasn’t too fond of them either.

The ringing of the bell stopped with a groan from somewhere behind the door, and a tanned woman with bright blue hair and a lip piercing appeared from behind it. “Emerys Hair and Beauty, how can I hap you today?” She asked in a bored voice, her gaze flickering over him and Morgan, and her eyebrows rising out of curiosity.

“Er — _hi_ —“ Peter started, rather awkwardly, glancing over to his sister as though begging her to save him. She didn’t step in. “I’m — I’m Peter, this is my sister, Morgan, and we, uh — we —“

“We need to swap.” Morgan cut across his awkward attempt at talking, rolling her eyes. He sighed in relief. “We need to look exactly like each other… so we can switch places. Please.”

The woman blinked at Morgan in surprise, looking them both up and down again, before smirking. “Twin swap, huh? Tryina’ prank the parents? Dumping a shit head? Confusing ya friends?”

“Uhhhh…” Peter and Morgan stared at each other, unsure of what to say — of how much to say.

“Or something else entirely?” She continued, her voice low and flat, but still sounding intrigued. “Both Trans and don’t want mom and dad to find out? Crossdressing? Too pussy to ask someone else?”

“Uh, well…” Morgan glanced at him, a call for help, and he stepped in.

“I wanna meet my mom, she wants to meet her dad.” He said simply. “They don’t know we know — about each other — and we’re not quite game enough to the ‘em just yet.”

“Huh.” Was all the woman said. “Well, I’m Ebony, I’ll help y’all… _swap_.”

Peter put his thumbs up awkwardly, and beside him, Morgan finger gunned. Ebony snorted at their reactions — likely at how awkward they both were — then moved across to the wall of makeup.

“Alright.” She said, clapping her hands together, and looking between Peter, Morgan, and the makeup. “You look… pretty damn alike already — let’s do hair first. That’ll be easier. I’ll just need pictures of you.”

Ebony got her phone out, and took a few quick pictures of each of them (both side profiles, both three quarters, front on), then nodded to herself, moving to another wall, covered in wigs and drawers. She fussed around for a few minutes, looking through many brown packages, and making a small pile on a shelf next to her. Then, she moved, to where the wigs were more made for guys, and pulled out a few more packages — which were very similarly coloured to the others.

The woman picked up the two piles she had made, giving the first one to Peter, and the second to his sister, then ushered them over to the hair cutting chairs.

“ _Jesus fuck_ , that’s a lot of hair.” She muttered, and Peter watched as she began to braid Morgans hair, twisting the braids around her head, so that all of her hair was pulled back. Then. Ebony put a skin-toned hat thing — sort of like a swim cap — over the braids, and grabbed the top pack.

Ebony pulled a wig out of the package, and Morgan bit her lip, staring into the mirror with an expression very close to scared.

The first wig was awful. The second wig, if it was possible, was worse. The third wig was somewhat better, but still not great.

The fourth wig was perfect.

It was honestly… _terrifying_ — to look at Morgan, yet see himself.

The hair — the fake hair, it was hard to realise that is was fake hair — fell in the exact same way as his did. Was the exact same colour as his.

It made it look as though they were identical twins, rather than fraternal.

And _Jesus fucking Christ_ — Morgan looked like him.

Fucking scary shit.

Ebony clapped her hands together again, grinning, then moved across to Peter. “Alright, on to number two — lets make you look like ya sister, huh?” She winked, then started to brush his hair back, getting it to stay down with gel, then giving him a cap-thing — just like the one she gave his sister.

Morgan was staring at him as Ebony did his hair, and he couldn’t help but stare back, eyebrows raised. “What?” He asked.

Morgan laughed. “You… I look just like you right now, and it’s weird.” She wiped a hand down her face, then tried to copy his slightly Queens-like accent. “I’m Peter, and I like to not sleep! I drink a fucking lot of coffee, and I have a hologram instead of a phone.”

Peter laughed, and looked up as Ebony started fixing the first wig to his head.

That one wasn’t great — while being extremely, extremely realistic, it didn’t quite look like… Morgan.

Ebony frowned to herself, shook her head, and starting taking the wait back off.

Morgan was chatting to him, telling him about her old school, and Malibu, and her best friend Maddie. Ebony contributed to the conversation occasionally, changing from the second wig, to the third, to the fourth, to the fifth.

It wasn’t until wig number five that they struck gold; it looked like Morgans hair, and had the right hairline to pass for his sister, but it was a bit too long, and the parting wasn’t quite right; being central, rather than to the side like Morgans.

Ebony flipped the parting to the side quickly, then glanced at the photos she’d taken. She stared at the photo, the at Peter, then got some scissors, and started cutting the hair.

“So, uh… how’d you two find out y'all were twins?” Ebony asked, as she trimmed the hair of the wig.

“School.” Morgan said, before Peter could answer. “We met, and this kid said we looked alike, then Pete found a picture of us with our mom when we were toddlers, and he figured out that we knew each other once upon a time…”

“— then Mo found a picture of her being born, and my Aunt was in it.” Peter continued for her. They were keeping it vague, obviously — some random lady couldn’t know about who they really were. “And then a picture of us and our mom and our Aunt when we were born, and then us with both our parents when we were born, and… yeah.”

“Quite the story there.” The blue haired woman commented, before she set her scissors down. “There ya go; hair swap!”

Peter gaped at himself in the mirror, and he saw Morgan doing the same, out of the corner of his eye. “Holy… shit…” Morgan murmured, her hand flying to cover her gaping mouth. “You fucking look like me.”

And he did — _he_ looked like Morgan, and she looked like him.

Looking at himself and seeing Morgan was even stranger than looking at Morgan and seeing himself, Peter decided. It was fucking weird.

_Very fucking weird._

“Right.” Ebony said, spinning both their chairs around, and pulling them up to stand at the same time. “Now; makeup.”

She wandered over to the makeup wall. Peter followed her, and so did Morgan.

“I think our main issue here is gonna be the noses.” She said, looking up and down the wall. “Y’all have the same eyes — basically the exact same… same cheek bones, same jawline… your eyebrows are basically the same, too — just a tiny bit of makeup can fix that… yeah.”

Ebony spent less than five minutes on makeup; contouring their noses and doing their eyebrows, before she grinned at them finally. “There you go. Completely swapped.”

She pushed them toward a full length mirror, and Peter and Morgan both stared at it in shock.

It was like their heads had been swapped — chucked on each others bodies awkwardly.

It was amazing. It would work perfectly.

They could pull this off — they could successfully switch places.

“Alright, kids.” Ebony stepped behind the counter, a small amount of makeup for each of them, and scanned the wig packages too. “Peter — Morgan — whichever one of you is Morgan underneath. Ready to be paid for.”

Morgan stepped forward, and pulled a card out of her phone case, and scanned it on the register quickly. Then, Peter also payed, and they both put their purchases in their backpacks.

They grinned at each other as they left the shop, yelling their goodbyes to Ebony, and looking at their own faces —which was still weird.

“Okay, now where?” Peter asked. “We’ve like… _swapped heads_ … and faces… so — where now?”

Morgan laughed, and went to push her head over her shoulder, freezing when she found no hair there. “Uh… glasses shop!” She exclaimed. “You’re gonna need fake glasses just like mine, because I always wear my glasses… and I’m gonna need —“ She sighed. “—I’m gonna need contacts. _Ew_.”

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, spinning around to stare at his sister, the hair on his head flinging around him as he spun. It was a strange experience. “What have you got? Short sighted? Long sight —“

“Astigmatism.” She interrupted him. “2.25.”

 _“Yes!”_ He exclaimed, flinging his now long hair over his shoulder enthusiastically. “I have glasses! With that exact prescription! _Astigmatism is a dominant gene!_ I have them in my dorm, back at camp!”

“Really?” Morgan raised her eyebrows, looking way too much like Peter for his liking. _“You?_ Wear glasses?”

“Wore glasses.” He corrected his sister, as they kept walking through the mall. “I have contacts not — but, dad won’t notice if I start wearing them again… just say that they dried up because you left ‘em in too long at camp — we can just swap glasses!”

“Right! Yes! That’s perfect, bro!” Morgan shook his arm excitedly. “Okay, okay, okay — ooh! Alright, we need… we need a — fuck.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Morgan, and the horrified expression on her face. “What? What do we need?”

“A — _Binder_.” Morgan struggled to get the word out. “Fuck, that’s gonna be painful.”

“Damn, yeah, it is…” He murmured, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That will suck.”

Morgans demeanour flipped instantly, and she smirked. “It’ll be worse for you, though.”

“Why?”

“You’re — you’re —“ Morgan burst out laughing. “—You’re gonna have to wear — wear a — a _bra!”_ She snorted in laughter, and patted him on the shoulder. “This is gonna be so funny!”

“I’m — uh — _shit_ —“ Peter muttered. “Where the — where the _fuck_ do I get a — get a _bra!?”_

Morgan stopped walking, and doubled over Fromm her laughter. “Oh god, I cannot wait to see this!”

“Nooooo!” Peter groaned. He wiped his hand down his face, frowning deeply. _“What the fuck am I meant to do with a bra!?”_

Morgan just laughed at him.

_**MARCH 31, 2025, 11:43 AM — MIT MUSEUM, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.** _

It was strange to be away from Peter after four days of being around each other basically constantly. Especially since MIT was a very well known part of the Stark family history. Their father had gone to MIT (youngest person ever to attend), their Aunt had gone there, too, and their grandfather before that.

Morgan knew perfectly well that Peter was planning on going there too.

She just might, as well.

Continue family traditions, and whatnot.

She and Peter had been separated for the museum. Peter was with his other friends, she was with Cindy and Michelle — they were her favourite people so far, other than her brother, of course.

They had swapped back into each other halfway through their shopping trip, after getting binders and bras and clothes. She and Peter had also been practicing their makeup — their eyebrows and noses — so that they would be able to perfectly execute the plan.

So that she could finally be near her dad — the person she had been wishing to meet her entire life.

It was strange, walking through a place with so much connection to her family without her brother — really, doing anything without her brother at the moment seemed strange; they’d been together so much since the start of term.

Morgan, Cindy and Michelle were in _‘Hall of Fame’_ at the museum.

Most of Peters family was in said Hall of Fame; Howard Stark, Peter (and Morgans) grandfather, had a rather prominent spot in the 40’s alumni area — creator and first CEO of Stark Industries, helped create the super soldier serum that made Steve Rogers into Captain America, blah, blah, blah.

She got the vibe that Peter wasn’t overly fond of their grandfather. And that their father wasn’t, either. Apparently, despite his genius, Howard Stark was not very good at being a dad — lucky for Peter, (and Morgan, but only for the first two years of her life), that had not been passed down to Tony Stark.

Maybelle ‘May’ Stark-Parker (they left her maiden name there, likely because people tended to forget her without ‘Stark’ in her name), Anthony ‘Tony’ Stark and James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes were among some of the most famous alumni of the 90’s

Morgan stared up at her fathers’ plaque.

* * *

**_ANTHONY ‘TONY’ STARK_ **

_Iron Man, Current Owner of Stark Industries, Leader of the Avengers Initiative, Former CEO of Stark Industries._

_Graduated Summa Cum Laude, 1992, Age 17 — Masters Degree and Doctorate in Engineering and Physics._

* * *

“Age fucking _seventeen_.” Michelle murmured, making Morgan snap her head in her… maybe-friends’ direction. “Makes ya wonder how the fuck the sister got any recognition at all.”

Morgan glanced at Cindy, who had a torn expression on her face — Cindy knew both May Parker and Tony Stark personally, and undoubtedly had different opinions of the two to the general public.

Cindy frowned slightly. “She doesn’t exactly get any recognition anyway.” Cindy commented. “She’s pretty cool, though.”

“Yeah.” Morgan added, nodding over to her Aunts plaque, a bit further down from her fathers’.

* * *

** _MAYBELLE ‘MAY’ STARK-PARKER_ **

_Neurological Surgeon._

_Graduated Summa Cum Laude, 1995, Age 24 — Doctorate of Medicine._

* * *

“I mean, she’s a neurosurgeon — that is so awesome! Can you imagine how stressful that would be, like — like, brain surgery!” Morgan shook her head in amazement. “Like, _shit!_ That’s some insane shit! She like, saves so many people!”

Michelle nodded, looking at the plaque of May Parker appreciatively, something akin to approval, possibly respect — it was hard to get a read on Michelles emotions — on her face.

“Okay, okay, _but_ —“ Cindy cut in, dragging both Morgan and Michelle back towards the plaque for Tony Stark, pointing to the one next to the man. “Here. Most under appreciated person, like, ever!” Morgan glanced up at the plaque she was pointing at, and grinned — Peters (and her) Uncle.

* * *

** _JAMES ‘RHODEY’ RHODES_ **

_War Machine, Lieutenant Colonel in the Unites States Air Force, Aerospace Engineer._

_Graduated Magna Cum Laude, 1992, Age 19 — Masters of Engineering Degree in Aeronautical Engineering._

* * *

“Mmhmm” Michelle made a small noise of agreement. “He is definitely underrated.”

“And Aeronautical Engineering! Like, he got an Aeronautical Engineering degree, while being a full time baby sitter to Tony Stark — talk about a full time job!”

Michelle snorted, making both Morgan and Cindy turn to look at her with raised eyebrows. 

“What?” Morgan asked, and Michelle just stared at her, seemingly contemplating something.

“Sorry, sorry.” Michelle waved her hand around dismissively. “You just sounded _terrifyingly_ like Parker. That was _fucking weird shit.”_

Morgan froze for a second, avoiding eye contact with Michelle. She laughed nervously. “Hah, shut up, dude! I sound nothing like Parker. _Pfft_.”

“ _Riiighhttt_.” Michelle dragged out the word, looking at Morgan sceptically. Then, she shook her head, and pointed towards a bathroom sign. “I’m gonna go there — I’ll meet you guys back out here in five. Please do as much of my work as you can.” She passed her work booklet to Morgan, turned and walked off to the bathroom.

She blinked at the booklet in her hand, then laughed, looking up at Cindy with a smile on her face. “She is a strange one.”

Cindy did not look overly impressed.

The other girl was standing, stiffly upright, her arms crossed in front of her, glaring at Morgan intensely.

“Uhmm…” She said quietly, her smile dropping. “What’s up, Cindy… why are… what did I do?”

Cindys glare stayed cold, her jaw set. Morgan, was honestly a bit… intimidated.

“Cindy?… You’re — you’re kinda freaking me out, dude!” She exclaimed, looking around, but unfortunately not finding anyone to turn to.

“Look, Morgan Stacy.” Cindy said, her voice cold and hard. She stepped forward, but Morgan stood her ground. “I don’t wanna be like, enemies, or whatever — honestly, I want to be friends… But I need to know exactly what you want with Peter.”

Morgans jaw dropped, and she almost started laughing. She didn’t, though. “What I want with Peter?”

“Dude.” Cindy relaxed significantly. “Look, Peter is my oldest friend; I’ve known him forever, and I love him like he’s my brother.”

 _Oof_. That was a rough draw — Cindy loved Peter like a brother, without knowing that he was actually Morgans brother.

Well, that would make them basically honorary sisters — that would be fun.

… but Morgan couldn’t tell anyone about the secrets. She couldn’t break her brothers’ trust like that.

Cindy ran her hands through her hair, her voice becoming a little bit desperate, and started pacing nervously. “And so I’m worried about him — because since you started at Midtown — two weeks ago — you two have been practically joined at the hip, and he’s being really secretive… like, more secretive than he usually has to be — no, no, ignore that, I just… I’m worried about him, and he’s beed super worried about his dad, and his Aunt, and his Uncle, because they’ve all been on this mission, and — fuck! Forget I said that! I just —“

“Cindy!” Morgan said, her voice calm, and her hands reaching out to her brothers’ oldest friend in a placating manner. “Cindy, don’t worry. I know.”

“You know? What — what do you know?”

Morgan dropped her arms, taking in a deep breath. “I know about Peters dad. And his family. And all that… stuff.”

“All that stuff…” Cindy repeated slowly, before her eyes widened in understanding, and she gasped. “Holy shit — he told you!? He told you! About his dad, and his family, and his — he’s known you two weeks, why did he tell you!?”

Okay, yeah, Cindy was freaking out.

“Cindy! Cindy be quieter!” Morgan grabbed Cindys shoulders, and shushed her. “Dude, there is a very, very good reason that he told me, but you cannot — absolutely cannot — tell a single soul.”

Cindy made a small huff of agreement, and so Morgan continued. “Not anyone at all, okay? This is just between you, and me, and Peter. Not even Ned is allowed to know.”

“Not even Ned?” Cindy asked. “But _Ned_ —“

“— is Peters best friend, and he knows about Peters family, I know, but this new secret has to stay absolutely confidential — alright.”

Cindy sighed, and nodded. “Alright. I won’t tell. Anyone.”

“Okay… just… promise me you won’t freak out.” Morgan held her breath, before Cindy finally nodded. “We’re _twins_.”

She waited in anticipation for her brothers oldest friend to respond, but Cindy just stared at her, mouth agape.

Morgan waved her hand in front of the other girl, making Cindy jump back in surprise. “ _Twins_.” Cindy whispered. “Like — you and Peter — are twins. So your dad is _also_ … _his_ dad — how does that —“

“—Peters dad doesn’t know that we found each other.” Morgan interrupted. “My mom doesn’t know, we’re planning on swapping places when we go home, so I can meet dad and he can meet mom, and… yeah. We’ll go from there, I guess.”

“Holy fucking shit balls.” Cindy murmured. “Holy shit, I knew there was something up with you! I knew Peter wouldn’t just — just do something, and like… keep it secret from me!”

“Yeah, yeah, Cindy, that’s cool and all, but you need to chill before Michelle comes back! She can’t know! No-one else can know!”

“Right, yeah, okay. Of course.” Cindy nodded, grinning. “I guess, that makes us like… honorary sisters, right?”

Morgan also grinned. “Yeah. It does.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Cindy turned to her, eyebrows raised. “Wait… who’s your mom?”

Well, here does.

Morgan smirked. “Oh, Peter and I? Our mom is Pepper Potts.”

“ _—what the fu_ —“

“—and said mom is gonna fucking _murder_ me when she finds out I told someone without her permission. And background checks. And other stuff.” Morgan sighed, leaning her forehead in her hand. “Jesus, she is gonna kill me!”

_**APRIL 02, 2025, 10:31 PM — CHESTNUT HILL RECREATIONAL CAMP, OUTSKIRTS OF BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS.** _

“Okay, let’s go over it again.” Morgan kept pacing in front of him. They were outside the dorms, on a small grassy patch, re testing each other on every single detail of their lives.

It was the last night of camp, and everyone else was asleep. Morgan was whispering, because she wasn’t certain that everyone else was asleep, but Peter could hear literally everyone — and they were all definitely asleep.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Aunts and Uncles — full names and short descriptions.”

Morgan groaned, and started listing them off on her fingers. “Maybelle Margaret Parker. You call her Aunt May, or just May. She’s your dads older sister, born in 1971, graduated MIT in 1995 with a Doctorate of Medicine.”

“Yep.” Peter said, leaning his head on his hand.

“Right. Then James Rhodes — Uncle Rhodey, or just Rhodey. His mom is your Nanna Robbie, but you usually just call her Memaw. He’s your dads best friend, they met at MIT, cause they shared a dorm, and have been friends ever since… we can skip Hap… Natasha Romanoff is your Aunt — Aunt Nat, or Nat, or Тетя Нэт. She taught you Russian, and boxing, and lying. She found out about you when she was watching your dad in 2011, when he had palladium poisoning, and stopped SHIELD from knowing much about you.”

Peter put his thumbs up. “Yep, that’s good. Avengers — how did they find out I existed?”

“Late 2018, Sokovia Accords had been renegotiated. They were eating with your dad, you wanted him, and walked in on them, Steve Rogers almost had a fit, because he wounded Tony Stark real bad in Siberia, during the Accords debacle.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded, and stood up. “ _Umm_ — Uncle Ben. Tell me about him.”

Morgan gulped, and Peter could see her blinking away tears. “Ben Parker. Married your Aunt May in 1999, with dad as his best man. You were partially raised by him and May, because of the nature of his… work, with the constant near-death and whatnot. Uh, he… are you sure you want me to say this?”

“You need to know it if you wanna pass as me.” He said, and his sister sighed.

“Alright, well… 2023, you were twelve, you were staying with Aunt May and Uncle Ben in Queens while dad was on a mission in Sweden. You guys went to get crisps and ice-cream, you went to Delmars Bodega, and saw a robber running down the street — Ben was a cop, and even though he was off duty, he chawed the dude, dude shot him… you got there a second late, and he said — his lasts words were —“ Morgan gulped, and Peter felt a bit bad, but she finished. “His last words, to you, were _‘with great power comes great responsibility.’_ And then he… he was _DOA_.”

Peter nodded. “Alright, you give me a couple now.”

Morgan breathes out heavily, and stopped pacing around to sit down on the grass. “Right. My cousins. Tell me about my cousins.”

“Your cousins.” Peter started, looking up at her. “Violet and Delilah Hartley, daughters of Gianetta Hartley, also known as Ginger, and Carson Hartley. Vi is two years older, Delilah is two younger, and, because of a fight between mom and Aunt Ginger in 2006, you didn’t meet your cousins until you were four. Vi is a redhead, and she has a personal vendetta against art, Delilah dyed her hair black three months ago, and plays basketball.”

“Yep, yep, _yep!_ ” Morgan exclaimed, giving him a short clap. “ _Aaanndd_ tell me about my friends.”

“Maddie Selene Davis is your best, best friend, and her and her parents all know about your mom. She found out when y’all were seven, and you met when you were five. You met Chelsea Matthews on the first day of middle school, and instantly became friends. You and Maddie merged with Chelsea and her best friend Raina Willow — neither Chelsea nor Raina know about you being a Potts, but you still love them both heaps.”

“And decidedly not-friends?” His sister asked him, raising one eyebrow challengingly, as though it was a difficult question.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Decidedly not-friend number one; Jason Milton. Milton has been obsessively in love with you since the fifth grade. He’s repeatedly asked you out over the last four years — in the month and a half since you moved to New York, he has asked you out over text twenty three times — which, Jesus fucking Christ, this dude needs to chill.” Peter laughed at the load, irritated groan that cake from Morgan. “Decidedly not-friend number two is the famed _Millie-Victoria Stirling._ Hyphenated first name implies bitchiness from afar. Millie screwed you over in seventh grade, slapped you, then burned your Physics workbook.”

“Fucking bitch.” Morgan muttered under her breath, making Peter laugh.

“Okay.” He said. “Things to know about the Stark household?”

Morgan laughed, and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Stark household rules. I May offers food, always turn her down; she burns everything, and most of her cooking in inedible.”

“It’s awful.” Peter added. “Don’t even attempt to —“

“— rule _two_.” Morgan cut over him. “Always say yes if offered coffee, omelettes or cheeseburgers. If you don’t eat these things, and you’re a Stark, you’re automatically a disgrace.” Peter nodded solemnly. It was an actual rule in their house. “Rule three, of Nat and Happy are in the same room, escape — they fight a lot, it’s dangerous to get caught in the crossfire... and rule four, always use sarcasm. Sarcasm is the key to being you.”

“ _Perfect!”_ Peter grinned.

Morgan scoffed. “I was obviously gonna get it, dude... now you tell me the Potts household rules.”

“Right.” Peter cleared his throat. “Number one; paint in the middle of the night. If you can’t sleep, paint. If your bored, paint. Always just paint.”

“And the golden rule of the painting?” Morgan asked, eyebrows raised.

_“Don’t touch your oil paints.”_

“Yeah.” His sister nodded in agreement. “Touch my oil paints, and I will personally _kill_ _you_.”

“Noted.” Peter said, trying to hide the laughter in his tone. “Okay, rule two; always eat moms teriyaki chicken — it’s the best thing ever, and your second favourite food, next to cheeseburgers. Number three, don’t be offended by Azzys excessive swearing.”

“Yeah.” Morgan laughed. “And why does Azzy swear so much?”

“Azmariah lives in Brisbane, Australia, until she was nineteen years old. She moved to LA at nineteen for work, and started working for your mom when you were seven, and she was twenty three. So, she’s an Aussie. Aussies like to swear.”

“And —“ Morgan held up a hand, as though she was warning him. “— just warning you, she is not afraid to say the _C — U — N — T_ word, so... yeah. That’s a fun thing.”

“Yep.” He agreed, grinning at his sister. “You told me — she gets really angry on the road, and so calls other cars the _C_ word and shit like that.”

“ _Mmhmm_.”

“And, uh… if she starts going on about _eshays_ and _servos_ and _Maccas_ , just ignore her — it's all nonsense anyway, none of it makes sense, and Azzy is literally the only person that knows what the fuck she’s going on about.”

“Ah, brother.” Morgan said, as she leaned back onto her elbows, so she was half-laying on the grass. “I have taught you well.”

Peter snorted at her words, and then spoke, prompted by her raised eyebrows. “Sorry, sis — it’s just… every time you call me Brother, I think of Thor and Loki, and how — did I tell you the stabbing story?”

His twin just stared at him blankly, so he assumed that it was a no.

“Okay, well… first time I met Thor, I was nine, and he had his brother,Loki, with him at the compound.”

“… with you so far…”

“And then we were all eating, and dad was like, ‘ _y’all sure this dude isn’t still hellbent on destroying us?’_ — cause, y’know, New York, 2012, one of the many, many times that dad almost died, was Lokis—“

“Yes, yes, Loki Odinson caused the Chitauri invasion in 2012. _Old news._ ” Morgan cut in.

“Right!” Peter agreed. “And Doctor Banner was like, ‘ _nah, don’t worry, he tried to kill me when we were in space together_ ’, and Valkyrie — I forgot to tell you about Valkyrie, y’know, the lady with the unicorn thing? She’s Asgardian?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah, so Valkyrie was there too, and she was like _‘he did try to kill me too, that’s just Loki.’_ And then Thor was like, _‘yeah same, on many, many occasions’,_ and I just looked at him, super confused — because they’re brothers, _right?_ Like, brothers aren’t supposed to try kill each other — anyway, then Thor goes, _‘this one time, Tonyson, when my brother and I were small children like you, he transformed himself into a snake, because he knows that I love snakes, and I picked the snake up to admire it, and he transformed back into himself, and was like blahghgh, it’s me! And then he stabbed me. We were eight, at the time.’_ ” Peter attempted — and failed — to do Thors voice, but he ignored the way Morgan was laughing at his impressions.

“And then Loki just started laughing like a manic!” He continued. “Yeah, and Bruce and Valkyrie were just sitting there, like ‘ _eh, old news_ ’, but dad and I were horrified!”

“Sounds like one heck of a dinner.” Morgan said. Then she sighed, and laid fully down. “You know what, Pete?”

“What?” He asked. He laid down beside his sister, and stared up at the dark sky.

“I think we’ve got this.” She said. He heard her heart bating rhythmically; calmly, beside him, and really, truly believed that she believed it. Morgan rolled over to face him, and propped her head up with her hand — Peter took the cue to follow suit. “I mean, it isn’t like we’re gonna be around mom and dad constantly, and they’re not gonna be like… intensely quizzing us on our lives the entire time. And our disguises are really, really good.”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed, a smile forming on his face as he looked across at his sister. “The fact that we’re almost _identical_ probably helps that, but —“

“Oh, shut up!” Morgan swatted him with her free hand, and rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Go over the plan one more time?” He asked, and his sister nodded enthusiastically.

“Right. In the morning, we use the showers; we get ones that are next to each other, so nobody really realises that we’ve switched places.”

“Yeah. Then we get our wigs and our makeup and our binders and our bras and all that shit on.” He continued for her, Morgan grimacing when he said ‘binder’, but letting out quite a loud snort of laughter when he said ‘bra’. “And then, easy peasy, we just go to opposite cars when we get off the bus.”

“And you know what my car will look like?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You know mine?”

Morgan also nodded, before she continued. “Right. So, Hap is getting me-slash-you, and Azzy is getting you-slash me — and both of them will be like… ten, fifteen-ish minutes later than they’re meant to be, as per the extremely over the top, annoying, pain in the ass security protocols that both of our parents insist that we follow to a T.”

“And from there, its super easy; bond with our parents, pretend to be each other, then we can switch back at the start of school on Friday, but switch back into each other at the end, so that I can spend the weekend with mom, and you can send it with dad.”

“And then we just wing it from there.” Morgan concluded. “We just go with it for a bit, see how it turns out, and then figure out how we tell them that we know — about everything.”

“Yeah.” Peter sighed contentedly, looking back up at the darkened night sky, with a smile on his face. “We’ll be fine.”

“We will.” Morgan agreed.

After about five minutes, Peter noticed just how slow his sisters heart beat had become, and realised that she had fallen asleep. “ _Shit_.” He whispered to himself, shaking her by the shoulder to wake her up. “Mo, wake up! You need to go back to your dorm!”

At that, Morgans eyes snapped open in fear, and she leapt up into a sitting position. “Shit!” She hissed, taking the hand that he offered, so he could pull her up to stand with him. “Shit, how long was I asleep?”

Peter shrugged. “Only like, five minutes. It’s fine, it would just be hard to explain if the teachers found you asleep outside on the grass tomorrow morning.”

“Fuck off.” She mumbled, evidently half asleep, as she pushed Peter in the direction of his dorm room. “Night bro, love ya!”

He watched as she disappeared into one of the old, dark dorm rooms, and grinned as he pushed his own heavy door behind him, and crawled into his top bunk, above Ned.

Tomorrow, the plan would commence.

And he would _finally meet his mom._


	6. PART FIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE !!!! iTs HeRe NoW tHoUgH, So...
> 
> EnJoY, dEaReSt ChiLdReN :)

**_NOVEMBER 27, 2013, 9:50 PM — TONY STARKS TEMPORARY APARTMENT, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Two thousand and thirteen — quite possibly the worst year of Tony Stark’s entire life.

He missed Pepper, the woman he had truly thought to be his soulmate; the only woman he had ever really, _truly_ loved.

He missed Morgan. His amazing, adorable daughter. The sweet little girl that he helped bring into the world… that he would likely never see again — thanks to his own stupidity. His recklessness.

Tony see how the move to New York, and the separation from Morgan and Pepper, was affecting his son — when the boy cried for his mother, for his twin. When he looked at Tony with so much sadness and confusion at why they were gone.

And it broke his heart.

He and Peter lived in New York now, in an apartment not too far from where May and Ben lived, close enough to both his sister and the Avengers tower.

New York was strange. Very unlike LA — Tony had lived there as a kid, with his parents and his sister, but now it seemed… different. Darker. Depressing. As though it was no longer covered in the strange golden quality that his childhood memories with May and his mom in them had.

He wasn’t handling the move — the separation from Pepper and Morgan — very well.

And what he missed — possibly above all else — was the father he used to be.

For a while there, he really thought that he had his shit worked out. That, despite the superhero-ing and the occasional villain hellbent on destroying him and everything that he loved, he was doing okay. He had really thought he was an okay dad, an okay person, for a while there.

Not anymore.

The separation had broken something inside of him. Something big and essential was missing from his life. And that something was Morgan and Pepper. The confidence that he had held for the last two years about his role as a father, and how well he was doing that, was completely gone.

Tony was slipping back into old habits.

He knew that he was. He wasn’t even going to try deny it. Wasn’t going to try plead for his honour and his pride.

He was a screw up, and he was drinking again. Drinking a lot, again.

It wasn’t like he was trying to. He was trying really hard not to, but he just… couldn’t. The call of the alcohol, the comfort that came with it — with forgetting — was too strong.

 _He_ was too _weak_.

And New York City was the place that the old demon within him was reborn. The place where he found himself once again fucking shit up — except this time, he was in his late thirties, rather than his early twenties. This time, May and Rhodey were being harder on him, chastising and reprimanding him for his recklessness and irresponsibility.

This time, there was no Pepper to pull him out of the darkness. To keep him grounded.

This time, he had a three year old son.

And right now, he was being an awful father to said three year old son.

Tony so badly wished he could be the man he had been before they left again. That guy, but better. To be the father that his son — and his daughter — deserved. The man Pepper deserved.

He hadn’t been good enough for Pepper before. He hadn’t been good enough for his daughter.

Now, he was even less worthy of them. Of his son.

He spent his nights drinking, his morning hungover, and the time in-between trying to help his son. Trying to make sure that Peter was still loved and cherished, even though his mother was now gone.

Tony knew he wasn’t worthy of all the love and affection that Peter gave him. He knew he wasn’t worthy of the way that Peter looked at him, as though he single handedly hung the stars. He would never be deserving of his perfect son.

His son needed the one thing that Tony could no longer give him; his mother.

He just hoped that, whatever she was doing now, Morgan was okay. He would never stop loving his daughter. Never go a day without thinking how much he missed his little girl. How much he missed Pepper.

Tony hoped he’d be good enough to see them both again one day.

**_APRIL 02, 2025, 4:47 PM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan went to tuck her hair behind her ear, but, once again, found nothing there.

It was strange, being dressed up as her brother. She had been Peter the entire day, and it was _still_ weird to be him — to have short hair, and be best friends with Ned Leeds, and to have a hologram as a phone.

Ned didn’t seem to suspect a thing; he had been talking to Morgan as though she really were her brother, and hadn’t said anything about the switch, or her relation to Peter Stark — plus, the dude was terrible at keeping secrets, and if Peter had said anything, Ned definitely would’ve spilled by now.

So, it was still just her, Peter and Cindy that knew.

 _Cindy_ thought it was the coolest thing ever. _Peter_ thought that wearing a bra was the worst thing in the world.

Morgan argued that wearing a binder was much, _much_ worse. Because, unlike _Peters bra_ , it was actually causing her pain — she would gladly admit that guy pants were great though. Like, pockets! Guy pants had pockets, and she was loving them.

She could fit her phone and her wallet in one of her front pockets — which was fucking amazing!

 _Pockets!_ Like, actual, real, _functioning_ pockets! In her pants!

To say she was excited about the pockets would be a huge understatement. She was well and truly in love with the pockets — and she would have pockets like this whenever she was Peter, which would be… quite a bit, now!

_Pockets!_

… _maybe_ she could calm down about the pockets, just a little bit.

Her — _Peters_ — phone dinged, and she looked at it quickly, to see a text from her twin brother.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _that’s hap, dude._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _good luck!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _love ya sis!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _*bro_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _whatever._

That in itself was weird — it being her name coming up, but it really being Peter. That when texting Peter, she would technically be texting herself.

Everything about their predicament was strange, Morgan knew that… but something about her brother pretending to be her, texting her while she was pretending to be him was putting her brain into a bit of a loop.

Morgan looked up from Peters weird phone, and saw the black tinted windows of their Uncle Happys ‘inconspicuous’ car starting to pull into the carpark.

Well, this was it. If he caught on, they were screwed. If he didn’t, phase one of the operation was a success, and she would meet her actual real father pithing a half hour.

She grimaced, and shot Peter a quick reply.

**_PETER:_ ** _yeah. gl to u too bro :)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _sis_

 **_PETER:_ ** _morgan_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _peter._

**_PETER:_ ** _this is just confusing, bro._

 **_PETER:_ ** _can’t we just,,, use our own names? that’d be so much easier !!_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _dude no._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _someone could tap into our phones and find out about this operation and then about mom and dad and we would well and truly be fucked_

Morgan sighed, and she heard Happys engine stopping in front of her.

Peter was right, of course. Phones were easy enough to hack, and if someone were to find their messages, their lives — the huge, messy webs of lies and tricks that their lives were — would be cracked open for literally anyone to see.

They couldn’t have that.

Happy beeped the horn, and Morgan jumped slightly, before crawling into the back seat.

Peter had been very clear about that — not that it was any different to her own relationship with Hap, but still.

 _Rule one of Happys car_ — sit in the back seat.

 _Rule two of Happys car_ — annoy the fucking shit out of the poor dude.

Which was her attempt with Uncle Happy too, but the fact that they both knew the guy could cause them to slip into their own habits with him, which would reveal their plot, and force them to reveal themselves to (and confront) their parents before they were ready to do so.

“Hey Hap!” She exclaimed, with her now — _very extremely_ — well rehearsed Peter voice. “How’s it been without me? Miss me a bunch? Is dad being annoying about being home without me?”

Happy scoffed in the front seat, as he began to drive. “Tony’s just as annoying as normally.” He said in a ow, grumpy sounding (just normal Happy) voice. “By the way, Rhodey and your grandmother are visiting.”

Morgan swallowed. This was the moment of truth. “Memaw’s over?” She asked, her voice softening slightly in anticipation. “And Uncle Rhodey? Why’re they over?”

“That is something best left for your father to tell you.” Happy muttered, his voice… sounding strange.

Then, as anticipated, as Peter had warned her would happen, and as she knew was very likely to occur, from personal experience, Happy rolled the divider up, so she was left completely to her own thoughts.

She grinned to herself, and pulled her — _Peters!_ — phone back out, to text him.

**_PETER:_ ** _with happy rn_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so far so good_

 **_PETER:_ ** _he winded up the divider. Doesn’t suspect a thing._

 **_PETER:_ ** _also apparently memaw and rhodey are visiting? For something?_

 **_PETER:_ ** _do you have any idea what they’re over for?_

 **_PETER:_ ** _cuz haps being rlly wired and vague about it…_

 **_PETER:_ ** _*weird._

She chucked the phone on the seat next to her, waiting for Peters reply, and leant on the window with a grin.

So far, so good.

Her brother replied after a moment — she saw the phone light up beside her — and she grabbed it eagerly.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _that’s good :)_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _idk why memaw and rhodey r over… but ig dad will tell u_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _alsoooo u were right about azzy being an impulsive swearer_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _she does it so much !!!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and she let me sit in the front!!!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _dbiebdwekqbdleoqwkejbcew_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _ik u said she would but its still cool!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _also her car is a fucking icon and i love it :)_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _o shit_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _brfiquwufho3dhjk_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _gtg_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i love you sis/bro <3_

Morgan let out a quiet laugh as she read the texts, and replied right away.

**_PETER:_ ** _love u too <3_

 **_PETER:_ ** _hAvE fUn WiTh AzZy BrO/SiS ;)_

She put the phone back away, and watched the city fly past her as Happy drove toward Greenwich Village.

Toward Peter’s home.

Toward her _father_.

The drive felt as though it took hours, when in reality, it was less than a half hour. The anticipation Morgan felt about finally meeting her dad was building up, and definitely not helping. Her excitement at meeting him was making the short journey feel all that much longer.

Way, _way_ too long.

By the time they arrived at Peters house — a big place in the middle of Greenwich Village, that one would expect someone rich (…but not quite _Tony Stark_ rich) to live in.

She had to give her dad some credit for the place; it looked just about the opposite of anything anyone would expect Tony Stark to live in. It was one of the ones where someone can tell that it’s just one house, rather than two, and looked surprisingly old for the Stark household — no vibranium in sight. No high rise, no obnoxious glowing proclamation of _‘STARK’_ , no almost extreme modernism.

It was cute. Kind of rustic.

Rich. Definitely rich.

Happy opened her door for her once they were parked, and she got out excitedly, hauling Peters very heavy camp bag after her.

The front door was unlocked, and Morgan rushed inside eagerly, and ran straight upstairs. She followed the instructions that her brother had given her to get to his room — turn right at the top of the stairs, third door on the left. The one opposite that was their dads room, and the second door on the left, next to it, was his personal bathroom, which also connected to his room.

She opened the door, flinging the bag into the corner of the room, and fell back to lay on the bed. She took in the room, glancing around at the Star Wars posters, and the half built computers. The organised mess.

It was very, very different to her own room, but it was kind of refreshing. Morgan could see a small stack of paintings in the corner of the room, and grinned to herself — she knew that Peter also liked to paint (something they had both inherited from their mom, apparently.)

Morgan stood up, and grabbed one of the paintings, considering it intently.

Peter painted in quite a similar style to how she did. His paintings were nice, though few. She absolutely loved them.

Morgan then started unpacking Peters camp bag, and was about halfway through when the door opened quietly.

“Hey, kid.”

She spun around, and broke into a wide grin when she saw none other than Tony Stark, her father, leaning on the doorframe and smiling at her.

 _“Dad!”_ Morgan exclaimed, then flung herself toward the man, hugging him tightly. She hadn’t really meant to do that, but she couldn’t stop herself — because that was her dad, and she hadn’t seen him since she was a toddler. And she had wanted nothing more than to hug him for the last twelve years.

“Woah, no need to suffocate your old man, Pete!” _Tony Stark_ — her actual, real dad — said, laughing slightly. He hugged her back, though, just as tightly, and she felt him kiss the top of her head gently. “You miss me when I was in India?”

Morgan released her father, and smirked at him. “I see you survived the _‘corniest wedding of the century_.’”

The man grimaced. “Barely. It was… _well_.” Morgan raised her eyebrows at him, in the most Peter way she possibly could, and her dad sighed. “They read their vows as a _recipe_ , if that’s any indicator of how awful it was.”

 _“Oh dear god.”_ Morgan whispered, gasping dramatically. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t even know how you’re still alive, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Barely.” Her dad muttered, then he smiled brightly. “Your Memaw is over — I would probably come say hi before she strangles me for keeping her grandson away from her.”

“That would be _such_ a shame.” She laughed, and her dad ruffled her hair — _her fake wig hair_ — fondly.

“Yeah, absolutely. You would have to find food without me.”

Morgan started to follow him back downstairs, and groaned. “You wouldn’t do that to me — you wouldn’t leave me to eat Mays cooking for the rest of my life. You love me _too much.”_

“Oh, just _watch_ me.” He looked back at her, smirking, and for a second it scared Morgan, how much like _Peter_ he looked.

“Wow, that hurt. I just came here for a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.” They reached the bottom of the stairs, and her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a laugh. “Maybe I _will_ let Memaw kill you. I’ll go live with her and eat those great apple pies that she makes.”

“You wouldn’t dare, _you_ —“ Her dad started, but he was cut off by a short old woman, with dark skin and white hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, slapping him lightly. “ _Heeey_ , Robbie!” He said, sounding surprisingly nervous — for Tony Stark. “Miss me?”

“Get off my grandson, _Anthony_.” She said, a small smile playing on her face, and Morgans _dad_ rolled his eyes, before finally taking his arm off of her shoulders. “There we go. Come give me a hug, Peter!”

“Hi Memaw!” She said quietly, giving Peters — _her_ — grandmother a small smile. The woman pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly, then holding her at arms length and looking her up and down.

“Oh, you’ve grown _so much_ since I last saw you, darling!”

Morgan grinned at the older woman, and Memaw pulled her back into a hug, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek.

“How’ve you been, Memaw?” Morgan asked when her grandmother finally released her again. “How’s, the, uh… the apple pie going?”

Roberta Rhodes smiled at her, and patted her arm with a laugh. “You always make me laugh, Peter, honey. The apple pie is going very well. I put some in the refrigerator for dessert.”

“Yes!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping and punching her dads shoulder in excitement. “I love that pie _so much_ , man, I can’t wait!”

“Yes, dessert will be great, honey.”

“Where’s Uncle Rhodey?” She asked quickly, worried about Nanna Robbie seeing through the act — _just in case_. She wasn’t sure what Peter and Memaw would usually talk about, and so… _what if_ she got caught out as an imposter? _What if_ she acted just a little too much like herself, rather than her brother, and fucked it all up? _What if_ they found out, and hated her for it?

“He better not be stealing the pie.” Robbie muttered, glancing in the direction that Morgan was pretty sure the kitchen was in. Memaw shook her head, resting her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “You know how he gets about his desserts.”

Morgans dad — _her dad, holy shit!_ — rolled his eyes, and patted her on the shoulder. “I left him in the dining room — he should still be in there.”

Morgan grinned, because, alright, she was excited to meet her uncle, and pushed past her dad and grandma, to get to where Colonel Rhodes — her dads best friend; _her uncle_ — was.

James Rhodes — _Uncle Rhodey_ — was standing in the dining room, next to the window, talking into his phone intently. He had fancy, sleek braces on his legs — Peter had told her about them. The media had never really got the full story about the mans' partial paralysis, but Peter did. Peter could remember it.

Her brother had told her the story. It was a month or so before his sixth birthday, during the Sokovia Accords fiasco, and what people had since dubbed the ‘Avengers Civil War.’ An accident happened, when Rhodey and their dad tried to chase after the escaping Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes — one thing led to another, the Vision accidentally disabled the flight ability in Rhodeys suit, while aiming for the Falcon, and… he fell.

And got partially paralysed — from the waist down.

Peter had explained it as one of the most traumatic things he’d ever been through — he was just a kid, and he had to watch his uncle lose the ability to walk. He’d said that their dad had created the leg braces almost immediately after returning from Siberia (where Captain America almost killed him, which was a whole other situation), and now, Rhodey could walk perfectly normally, with the help of the specially made braces.

Morgan paused halfway into the room, not wanting to accidentally interrupt Rhodey, or accidentally not act like Peter, or accidentally drop her Peter accent.

She was a bit scared of screwing up. _Yeah_. She was.

Rhodey didn’t seem to notice her immediately, and kept talking on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, you did good, Nat — yeah, the rest of us all tried to do it but only — uh huh, only you were successful at it….. No, we haven’t told him yet — _yeah_ , we will soon. _Or_ tomorrow, at the — I know that’s not a great plan, Nat, but Tony’s — yeah, he’s a bit nervous about it — well — hang on.” Rhodey seemed to have noticed Morgans presence, and grinned, holding a finger up to tell Morgan to wait for a minute. “Gotta go, Nat, Pete’s home — yeah, see you there. Bye!” He hung up the phone — Morgan assumed that it was Natasha Romanoff, because… well, _‘Nat’_.

She grinned at her uncle, waving to him sort of awkwardly. “Hey, Rhodey. It’s been a while.”

Rhodey grinned at her, pulling her into a quick side hug. “Yeah. Been too long, Pete.”

Way, _way_ too long. Like, _twelve_ odd years too long.

Rhodey released her, and instead ruffled her hair, still smiling heaps.

“Pete!” Morgan turned around at the sound of her dads voice, to see him near the door, holding up some keys. “Wanna come with me to get the angry tomato farmer?”

 _Maybelle the angry Italian tomato farmer._ Some sort of old inside joke between her dad and his sister, Peter had said. May was the tomato farmer, while their dad was… _Anthony the singing Italian Mafia man._ Her brother hadn’t seemed sure where the names came from, but he said it was something from when they were kids.

She grinned at her dad, and attempted to steal his keys from him, but he snatched them away, out of her reach. “Nu-uh, no stealing my keys, kid — you wanna come get Miss Maybelle Margaret with me, though?”

That was another inside-joke-nickname-thing between dad and Aunt May that Peter had told her about — calling each other by their full names. _Miss Maybelle Margaret_ and _Mister Anthony Edward._ It was something about them both kind of hating their full names, and the formality they had been raised in, with their father being _the_ Howard Stark.

Morgan rolled her eyes at him, but nodded anyway. “I’ll come with.”

“Alright kid, hurry up.”

She followed her dad as he lead her downstairs into a basement, where there was —

_— okay, that was really cool._

Tony Stark’s workshop-slash-lab-slash-garage thing was fucking awesome. There were Iron Man suits lining the walls, and super fancy equipment everywhere, and — _was that a holographic table? Thats awesome!_ — and fancy cars everywhere.

He got into an orange Audi — one that everybody on Earth with half a brain would recognise as the type of car that Tony Stark would drive — and she slid into the passenger seat next to him, grinning. Her dad raised his eyebrows slightly at the look on her face, but didn’t say anything. He started driving.

And Morgan just kept grinning.

Because, after _twelve years,_ she was finally with her dad again.

“Oh!” Her dad exclaimed, just after they emerged onto the street. “Aunt Nat is coming tomorrow night, too.”

Morgan froze momentarily. “Aunt Nat?” She repeated. “I thought — I thought she was on a mission?”

Her dad obviously didn’t notice her sudden change of mood — her _fear,_ honestly — because he grinned, and nodded. “She’s coming back just for tomorrow night and lunch on Saturday. Family time — just because she’s Natasha Romanoff, doesn’t mean she doesn’t get _family time…_ plus, Steve’s always nice to her.”

“That’s — great.” She forced out, still trying to keep her Peter voice up as well as she could. “— Awesome.”

“… Ради богов, блядь, я абсолютно облажался.” She muttered under her breath, quiet enough so that her dad couldn’t hear her.

_[(For gods fucking sake I am absolutely screwed.)]_

_Yeah._ Natasha would figure it out immediately.

She was so fucked.

**_APRIL 02, 2025, 5:03 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter would admit that Azmariah Williams, his moms personal assistant (slash Morgans unofficial babysitter) was _pretty damn cool._

She was a curly haired woman, with tanned skin and a constant bright smile, and wore some sort of green necklace — which kind of reminded him of the necklace from _Moana._ Actually, Azmariah kind of looked like Moana. A little. 

Azzy was basically an anti-Happy; she was the polar opposite of Peters Uncle (slash driver, slash unofficial babysitter). She drove her own car to pick him up — an old, burgundy _Nissan Micra;_ something Happy wouldn’t be caught dead in — and let him sit in the _front seat!_ Which was _awesome!_

Morgan had definitely been right about Azzys swearing — and her road rage. It seemed like every car that inconvenienced her in any way at all became the target of some very extensive profanity, and Peter was just glad that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

Azzy also played music. The vibes in her car were immaculate; the cool music (which was pretty similar to his music taste, which, in turn, was similar to Morgans music taste), plus the little old car itself, plus Azzys aggressive muttering of swear words at the cars around them was just making a cool atmosphere, and Peter was loving it.

“So, you — _Little fucking cunt!_ Don’t you fucking — oh, _fuck you! —_ so, you liked camp?” Azzy seemed to just pass her yelling at other cars off as completely ordinary, which he guessed it probably was, but the way that she just kept going with her sentence after it was kind of insane to him. 

Peter nodded, leaning his elbow and the open window. “Yeah, it was cool. The girls I was in the dorm with are pretty nice.”

“Yeah?” Azmariah glanced at him quickly, smiling. “That’s good. If they weren’t nice, I’d have to, y’know… _do some illegal shit.”_ She whispered the end of the sentence, making Peter laugh loudly.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s fine — let’s not get ourselves put in prison!” He teased. The wind from the window was making his long hair — _the wig —_ whip around his face irritatingly, and he grabbed it in annoyance, tying it into a low pony tail.

Morgan had given him special ‘long hair and tying it up’ training specifically for this reason, and Peter would admit that he was very grateful for it.

Also, he had officially decided that girl pants sucked. Their pockets couldn’t hold anything, and they all had _waists —_ he was a guy, he _didn’t_ have a waist, and these jeans were really fucking irritating.

“Mmhmm, you’re boring, I get it.” Azzy laughed, and poked at him playfully. “I mean, do you even wag school, or… are you still too young for that? You’re like, twelve, right? Is that wagging age? Chuck a sickie and go to Maccas? Or HJs?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, Az.” Peter said, using his now very well practiced Morgan voice, and rolling his eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“Wow, you hurt me, mate. I’d’ve thought you’d get Aussie talk by now — I _said,_ call in sick and go to McDonalds or Hungry Jacks… _Burger King.”_ She spat out the words _Burger King_ hatefully, then muttered under her breath, “ _Bloody uncultured American — I spend seven fucking years trying to teach her the ways of normal human people, and she still doesn’t get what i’m saying when I speak.”_

The words weren’t… _unkind,_ so to say, but rather muttered in the way that people do when they’re being irritated in a sarcastic way. She spoke much more like she was joking. Casually.

The car parked in the underground parking area of a tall, expensive looking apartment building. She pulled into a lot in the corner, and turned the car off. “Alright, chuck me your bag, Mozzie.”

Okay. _Yeah. Mozzie._

_That was fucking normal._

Morgan _had_ warned him about Azzys names for her — _Mozzie,_ where Azzy was from, meant _Mosquito…_ but it was also what she decided to call Morgan.

Peter was just gonna roll with it — it wasn’t really his place to question it.

“Yeah, yeah, here you go, Az.” He said, passing her the bag through the car. Then, he got out the car. Azzy did too, and slung Morgans camp bag over her shoulder.

Azmariah wrapped her free arm over Peters shoulder, and squeezed him close. “We missed you, Moz. Your moms definitely bored with no-one to yell at.”

“Mmhmm.” Peter muttered, in the most _Morgan_ way that he possibly could. “Cause she’s definitely had no reason to yell at you.”

“Not at _all.”_ Azzy laughed, leading him where the elevator was, so they could go up to Morgans apartment.

Up to Peters _mom._

The person that he had been denying wishing for for the last _twelve goddamn years,_ his _mom,_ was just up that elevator.

Literally less than a minute away.

He followed Azmariah into the elevator, and she pressed the button for the twelfth floor — the top floor — before leaning on the side of the elevator and scrolling through her phone. She looked up at him, and winked. “Don’t tell your mom that I’m on my phone.”

“‘Course not.” Peter agreed, and she grinned.

“Thanks babe.”

The use of the word _babe_ didn’t surprise him, even if it was a bit weird. ‘ _That’s just how Az talks’_ is what his sister had told him, _‘she says weird shit; don’t over think it too much.’_

Peter was trying to take Morgans advice — to not think about how strange the whole _‘being my twin sister so I can finally meet my mom, without wither of our parents knowing that we found each other_ ’ thing was, and how different Azmariah was to literally everyone he had ever interacted with.

After a few short seconds — although it felt like an agonisingly long time to Peter — the elevator dinged, and a cool, decidedly _not-_ FRIDAY voice sounded from it, saying “Level twelve; Penthouse.”

The doors opened, revealing a small, fancily decorated landing, before a polish white apartment door. Peter grinned. This was Morgans apartment.

His moms apartment.

Azzy pulled the camp bag back up her shoulder as she stepped up to the door, and fumbled around with a very large keychain, with heaps of key rings and keys hanging from it. She unlocked the door, and held it open for him.

He stepped into his moms penthouse apartment.

“Your mom took the arvo off so she could see you when you got back.” Azzy said as she closed the door behind him.

Peter heard her dump Morgans bag on a rack in the doorway, and then move somewhere to his right, and start unstacking something — he presumed that it was cups in the kitchen; Morgan had said that the kitchen was on the right as you walked in, the living and dining rooms directly in front, then the bedrooms, bathrooms, and their moms office all on the left.

“Pep _perrr!”_ Azzy yelled, opening what sounded like a fridge, and pouring something into glasses. “Mozzie’s back! And there’s juice here for everyone!”

Peter turned around, went into the kitchen after Azmariah, and picked up one of the glasses of juice. It was directly next to the dining room, with only a pristine counter separating it from where the large wooden table stood.

Next to the dining room was the large living room, where he could see some fancy sofas, a coffee table, a flatscreen TV, and a very expensive, very beautiful view of New York City through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Despite how fancy and expensive it looked, Peter couldn’t help but think that it was homey — there were pictures of Morgan and their mom hung around the walls, and reports, notes and cereal magnets stuck to the fridge. There were soft blankets and pillows strewn messily over the sofas, coffee cups and notebooks on the table, jackets hung over the backs of the chairs in the dining room, and paintings that _must_ have been done by his sister everywhere.

It was nice.

“Morgan!”

Peter turned at the very distinct voice of _the_ Pepper Potts — _his mom —_ and put his drink back down, so that he could run over and hug her.

Because, _holy shit,_ he was actually _finally_ hugging his _mom._ After _twelve years_ of wishing for her, and denying that he was wishing for her, he was finally with her.

His mom embraced him tightly, with him tucked beneath her chin — _jesus, she was tall —_ and held on to him until he started to shift in slight discomfort from how long the hug was taking. She laughed, and let go of him, and walked past him to grab her own glass of juice. “I see you missed me when you were gone — not too cool for me yet, huh?”

“Meh.” He shrugged.

 _I missed you more than you could ever imagine._ He wanted to tell her. _Because I’ve been waiting to see you again for twelve years — it’s me; Peter. Your son. I haven’t seen you since I was a literal baby._

… but he couldn’t say that. Not just yet.

 _Soon,_ though — when he and Morgan finally got their shit together and decided to rip off the bandaid; decided to tell mom and dad that they _knew_ now, and that they just wanted to be able to be a _whole family —_ one in which they didn’t have to pretend that each other didn’t exist.

“Well, I had heaps of fun without you.” She said sarcastically, leaning against the counter, and taking a sip of her drink.

It was kind of weird to see _the_ Pepper Potts dressed so casually — in just a big T-shirt and jeans — and to see her doing something so _normal;_ just standing in a kitchen, drinking juice. It was so crazily different to how she was depicted in the media. To how she acted in press conferences.

It was actually kind of a refreshing perspective of her, even if Peter was having some trouble wrapping his head around it — some parts of the media would paint _Miss Pepper Potts_ as a greedy, power-hungry megalomaniac; most wouldn’t, because she was one of the most successful and influential women of the twenty-first century, but certain media outlets — _The Daily Bugle,_ to name one specifically — would say that she was nothing more than a lowly, money obsessed position climber.

Peter knew better; from what he knew in the context of just being a person of the world, and literally _everything_ that Morgan had told him about her. She was just like any other person — hardworking, kind, and strangely casual away from her job as CEO.

What he knew didn’t make seeing Pepper Potts like this any less strange.

He guessed that Morgan was probably thinking the same thing about dad right about now.

Peter smirked. “Oh, _yeah._ I bet you had an absolute _blast._ Must have been so fun without your annoying child around.”

“So annoying.” His mom murmured, poking him as she started to walk back past him, out of the kitchen. “Go put your shit away — then we can watch something.”

“‘Kay!” He said possibly a bit _too_ enthusiastically. “I’ll be back out in a minute.”

“Sure.” His mom muttered, as she sat down on one of the sofas and pulled a blanket over her. “And don’t worry, Az — you’re invited too.”

Azzy made a small noise of victory behind him, as he grabbed the bag that she had thrown on the rack in the entry, and went down the hallway to the left of the front door.

Peter followed that instructions Morgan had given him to get to her room; The very last door on the left, bathroom is the extra door on the right as you go in.

And then, he was in his sisters bedroom.

It was a cool room — the bathroom was a little extension to the room, right next to the doorway. She had sliding mirror doors, and a nice, soft looking bed, tall windows opposite the foot of her bed, and a nice table set up in the corner.

There were canvases piling up absolutely everywhere — stacked next to the desk, pushed under the bed, leaning against the walls to dry…

…she really hadn’t been exaggerating how she stress painted, apparently.

There was a half dismantles laptop on the desk, and a few photos of Morgan and her friends stuck to the walls with blue tack or something.

It was cute. Simplistic.

Kind of… calming.

It was very different to his own room, but he felt really damn comfortable there, nonetheless.

Peter unzipped Morgans bag, took out her phone, some sort of wash bag, headphones and a phone charger, and his spider suit — which he may or may not have stashed away so that he could still patrol tonight and over the weekend — and then tipped everything else in the bag into the washing hamper (it just seemed like it would be weird and creepy if he went through his sisters clothes… and he just didn’t want to do that. At all).

He flopped back onto Morgans bed for a moment, just to check his messages before he went back out to where his _actual, real mom_ and Azmariah were… and damn, it was lucky he did. He had _a lot_ of messages from Morgan.

**_PETER:_ ** _hi_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so_

 **_PETER:_ ** _tiny little emergency_

 **_PETER:_ ** _NaTaShA fUcKiNg RoMaNoFf Is GoiNg To Be HeRe ToMoRrOw NiGHt_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ShE WiLL kNoW dUdE_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she is literally the greatest spy_

 **_PETER:_ ** _like_

 **_PETER:_ ** _EvEr_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she is gonna know straight away dude !!!!_

 **_PETER:_ ** _we are actual_

 **_PETER:_ ** _FuCkEd_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i Am OfFiCiALLy freAkiNg OuT bRo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _DuDe_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ArT tHoU aLiVeTh?_

 **_PETER:_ ** _Mo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _Mo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _Mo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _Mo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _Mo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _HeLp mE i Am TeRriFieD_

…. Nat wasn’t meant to be coming home for lunch this weekend.

And, when he thought about it, he couldn’t remember anyone saying that Uncle Rhodey and Memaw would be over for the weekend, either.

What the _hell_ was going down that they needed literally everyone that was unofficial family needed to be there for?

Was dad okay? Was Nat okay? Was Rhodey —

— Peter took a deep breath in, and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t freak out just yet. It could be nothing. It probably was nothing. It _had_ to be nothing.

Morgan could tell him what the fuck was going on. He texted her back.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _hello i hath returned_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _idk why nats coming home for saturday_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _if u just avoid her heaps you should be g_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _but like,,..,._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _nobodys hurt right?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _like dads okay?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and rhodey?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and nat?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and happy?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and may?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and memaw?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and literally everyone?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _are YOU okay?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _did something happen?_

**_PETER:_ ** _yea yea yea they all fine_

 **_PETER:_ ** _dOnT fReAk OuT bRo_

 **_PETER:_ ** _they aint all here cuz someones hurt_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i t s m a i n l y a l l g o o d_

 **_PETER:_ ** _s o d o n t f r e a k o u t:)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _dad said something about family lunch?_

 **_PETER:_ ** _on saturday?_

 **_PETER:_ ** _is that like a normal thing that y’all do all the time or,,,..,_

 **_PETER:_ ** _should i be like ,,.,,,_

 **_PETER:_ ** _wOrRiEd_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _iDk DuDe!!!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _do u feel like u should be worried?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _like scale of one to ten how weird are they acting_

**_PETER:_ ** _dude im not actually u_

 **_PETER:_ ** _idk how ur fam usually acts_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _just,,,,_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _just give me some sort of indication_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _like from everything i’ve said about them_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _go off that_

**_PETER:_ ** _then maybe like_

 **_PETER:_ ** _a six_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _ok i can work with that ;)_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _give me the run down at schl tmr and we can go from there_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _imma go watch tv w mom now tho so have funnnnnn_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _byeeee <3 <3_

**_PETER:_ ** _yeah. bye._

 **_PETER:_ ** _wish me luck._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _good luck :)_

Peter put the phone down on the bedside table, plugged Morgans phone charger into the wall, then put the phone on to charge. He decided that, despite pretending to be Morgan, his moms daughter, that she had known since birth, he kind of had to make a good impression on her.

And therefore having a phone present while watching a movie or a series or something with his _mom_ wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

He quickly showed the camp bag in Morgans wardrobe, and chucked everything else on her bedside table, then left the room and closed the door behind him.

“Morgan!” His mom called, as he started toward the living room. “Can you bring some snacks back with you? — I — Azzy says that if you —“

“— If you don’t bring me the skittles, mate, I will have an _actual_ fit.” Azzy cut over his mom.

Peter laughed, shook his head, and grabbed some food — Skittles, Cheetos, Reese’s — from the pantry. “Got it!” He yelled back. He jumped went to where Azmariah and his mom were, flopped down on the sofa, and put the food on the coffee table in front of him. “So. What’re we watching?”

 _“_ Your choice.” His mom grinned, and grabbed the packet of chocolate from the table. “You just got home, it’s your lucky day — thanks for grabbing these, by the way. My favourite.”

_You can’t say a Rom Com. You can’t say a Rom Com. Morgan doesn’t actually like Rom Coms. You can’t say a Rom Com — Horror Movies, Men in Black, Oceans Eight —_

_—_ Jurassic Park.

Peter grinned. “I know, mom… how about — Jurassic Park? The first one.”

“Jurassic Park it is, then.” His mom laughed, and shook her head. “Azzy, can you —“

“— yeah, yeah, I’ll put it on — y’know, it’s 2025, guys. There’s like, Netflix and shi— _ite_ now, right? I didn’t imagine it?”

“Oh, it has — mom just likes to be… oh, what _was_ it? Aw — au —“ Peter stumbled over the word, despite knowing what it was.

“Ah, _authentic.”_ Azzy said, clapping her hands together, and pointing at Pepper Potts — _his mother —_ then grabbing the remote for the TV and throwing herself back to the sofa to turn on the movie.

 _“_ That’s _it!”_ He exaggerated the word, laughing. “She _loves_ the _authenticity.”_

He and Azzy both started laughing, and his mom shook her head, covering her face with her hand like the dad in that vine.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

**_APRIL 03, 2025, 8:13 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter tore the wig off his head in relief, and let out a loud sigh. It was nice to finally be free of the mountain of fake _‘Morgan hair’._

He could now truthfully say that he had worn a bra — like, a proper _real_ bra — for more than twenty-four hours. He had taken it off, now… and he would not recommend wearing one to literally anyone.

Spending time with his mom was… amazing. It was everything he had ever imagined; she was awesome. They watched Jurassic Park, and then _The Lost World: Jurassic Park_ (the second one)— a movie night, with the three originals.

That worked out anyway; Morgan said she didn’t like the two Jurassic World films as much as the original three.

During their movie night, they had ordered pizzas — it had, admittedly, been quite hard for Peter to stop himself from eating the whole thing, (what with his super-human metabolism), and to instead just eat a tiny _Morgan-_ sized portion — but it was great nonetheless. It was really, really, _really_ good pizza.

His mom, after the second movie — by which point he was half asleep — had dragged him back to Morgans room, and somehow managed to get him to sleep.

Which, in itself, was _amazing._ Somehow, his mother had got him to actually _sleep before midnight._

It was official — Pepper Potts had done the _impossible._ Against all odds, she had _somehow_ defeated his (likely genetic) inability to get a full night of sleep.

Peter was just glad to be back in his own clothes and his own _body_ — his own _life —_ again.

No more than five minutes ago, he and Morgan had met by his locker. She had given him some of his clothes to change into, and he had given her some of _her_ clothes to change back into — he wouldn’t lie and say that his fashion sense was trustworthy enough for his sister to have just let him go with his gut and give her _whatever_ clothes he could find. No, she had sent him very, very precise instructions as to what he had to bring for her; a _very_ specific pair of black denim jeans, a plain moss green t-shirt, black converse high-tops, a selection of jewellery — all of which he had to send her multiple reference pictures of so that she _knew_ that he _definitely_ had an _adequate_ selection of clothing for her.

Girls and their clothes, Jesus! He’d just told her to bring _his own_ high-tops, the first t-shirt she found, the first pair of jeans that she found, and the old green jacket of Bens that May had given to him after his uncle died.

And _god,_ he was _so_ comfortable back in guy-pants — he had pockets again, and they weren’t fucking skin tight.

How Morgan wore that shit, _all_ day, _every_ day, Peter had _no idea._ How did his sister get by without _fucking pockets!_

 _And,_ why the _hell_ didn’t womens pants have pockets anyway? Was there some unspoken rule in the fashion industry against giving the _poor women pockets!_ What the _fuck_ was with that?

He shoved the clothes of Morgans that he came to school in — and his Morgan-disguise-stuff — into the spare bag that he had hidden in Morgans school bag, specifically for their ‘each other clothes’. They would leave their bags of stuff in his locker, then become each other again later on, so that they could swap places again for the weekend.

A foolproof plan.

Honestly, they were so good at this shit.

Peter left the stall that he had changed in, and washed his face — and his _Morgan make-up —_ off, so that his face was completely _him,_ again… even though his face just normally didn’t look all that different from his _‘looking like his twin sister’_ face.

Once he was sure that there was absolutely no make-up left, he did his hair, making sure it was passably neat, despite having been in a wig for more than twenty-four hours. Then, he left the bathroom, and returned to his locker, to meet Morgan again.

His sister got to the meeting spot a couple of minutes after he did, looking like herself again, rather than looking _terrifyingly_ like him… she didn’t have her glasses on, though.

“ _Heeeey,_ sis! You’re _you_ again! Awesome!”

Morgan glared at him, and shoved the two bags that she was carrying into his arms. “Don’t be so damn _loud,_ Pete!” She hissed, waving her now free hands around frantically. “There are _people_ fucking _everywhere_ dude! Ev-er-y-where!”

Peter winced at the harsh tone Morgan used, trying to balance the bags somehow. “Yeah, yeah, alright, sorry.” He clung to the bags awkwardly — his schoolbag and the two bags with their _each other_ outfits in them were all awkwardly clutched in front of him, while Morgans schoolbag was slung over his shoulder. “Can you, uh — help me, a little? With all these — y’know — bags?”

Morgans eyes lit up in realisation, and she rushed forward to take the two extra bags from his clutches. “Sorry, sorry — what’s your combination?”

“Month and day that dad got home from his work trip — 2010.” _May 31st, 2010,_ the day their father stepped back onto American soil after his three month capture in Afghanistan — _531._ Morgan would know that date. He’d told her that date on _numerous_ occasions.

“Right. Of course.” She muttered, slinging the two bags over her right shoulder, and fiddling with the twisting padlock, squinting uncomfortably. “ _Jesus Christ —_ where are my glasses? I can’t fucking _see_ a fucking _thing!”_

“Sorry…” Peter muttered, unzipping Morgans backpack, and passing her a blue glasses case. “There you go — nice glasses, by the way. Tiffany. Very, _very_ fancy.”

“Yeah, shut up and put them on my face, Pete — _don’t touch the lenses!”_

He gave a short laugh, and clumsily placed Morgans glasses on her face. “Honestly, Mo, you think I would touch your _lenses?_ I wore glasses for _eleven goddamn years —_ age three to about two months ago. I know what I’m doing.”

“Whatever.” She huffed, finally managing to unlock the locker, and shoving the bags into the small space quite aggressively. Once they were out of the way, Morgan relaxed a lot. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and passed Morgan hers. “Right, well — _I am freaking out about Natasha!”_

Peter had to catch himself, to stop a snort of laughter coming out. “Я сейчас буду говорить по-русски, так что медведь со мной.”

_[(I am going to speak Russian now, so bear with me.)]_

Morgan nodded in understanding, and smiled a little. “Направо. Хорошо. Делайте, говорите, потому что я это —“ she held her thumb and forefinger very close together in front of him. “—близко к потере мое дерьмо за это дерьмо гребаный Наташа!”

_[(Right. Okay. Do, speak, because I am this — close to losing my shit over this fucking Natasha shit!)]_

“Все будет хорошо, сестра.” Peter assured, keeping his voice low and quiet enough so that only the two of them could hear him. “У нас есть два варианта здесь; мы либо дайте Наташе знать, что происходит, либо, чем сложнее вариант, мы постараемся полностью уклониться от ее знаний.”

_[(Everything will be fine, sister. We have two options here; we either let Natasha know what is going on, or, the harder option, we try evade her knowledge completely.)]_

He raised his eyebrows at his sister, at the indecisive look on her face. She started to gnaw on her lower lip, evidently nervous. Or scared. Or both. “... Как ты думаешь, брат? Простой путь, или трудный путь?”

_[(...what do you think, brother? The easy way, or the hard way?)]_

That time, Peter actually did let out his snort of laughter. “Ладно, один — вы не могли бы сказать, что в менее зловещим образом. Интенсивным. И два —“ He frowned slightly, before he continued. “—Трудный путь безопаснее для нас, если мы не хотим, чтобы кто-нибудь узнать о том, что мы делаем, и если мы не хотим, чтобы кто-нибудь рассказать нашим родителям, прежде чем мы будем готовы. Проще всего, если мы не хотим, чтобы Наташа следила за нами слишком внимательно. Выберите свой выбор.”

_[(Okay, one — you could not have possibly said that in a less ominous way. Intense. And two — The hard way is safer for us, if we don't want anyone to find out about what we are doing, and if we don't want anyone to tell our parents before we are ready. The easy way is just easier, if we don't want Natasha watching us too closely. Choose your pick.)]_

Morgan screwed up her face in discomfort, then spoke very quickly. “Прости, Питер, мне нужно поменяться местами…” She changed languages, barely pausing between the two. “All'italiano. Mi dispiace, è solo - molto più facile. Siamo spiacenti…”

 _[(I'm sorry, Peter, I need to swap_ [Russian] _… To Italian. I'm sorry, it is just - much easier. Sorry_ [Italian] _… )]_

“ok. Sì, va bene. Russo è super aggressivo comunque, quindi è probabilmente meglio che usiamo italiano - la gente sarà meno... _sospetto_ di noi.” Peter nodded, smiling a little. “Così? Quale sarà? Il modo più semplice o il modo più duro?”

_[(Okay. Yeah, that's fine. Russian is super aggressive anyway, so it's probably best that we use Italian - people will be less... suspicious of us. So? Which will it be? The easy way or the hard way?)]_

“E tu pensi che l'ho detto minacciosamente — dovresti sentirti!” Morgan laughed. “Va bene, uh... Bene... Facciamo... Odio dirlo, ma dovrà essere il modo più duro.”

_[(And you think I said it ominously — you should hear yourself! Okay, uh... well... let's do... I hate to say this, but it'll have to be the hard way.)]_

Peter grinned at her decision, as they began walking toward the library. “fantastico! Quindi... ci saranno quattro parti nel modo più duro, va bene?”

_[(Awesome! So — there's going to be four parts to the hard way, alright?)]_

“Capito.” Morgan said decisively, nodding as she walked along beside him, and they neared the library. “Ora dimmi il piano, _amico!”_

_[(Got it. Now tell me the plan, dude!)]_

“Va bene, ci siamo!” They entered the library, and sat on the floor between two of the bookcase rows, in the very back corner. Peter started listing the parts of the plan off on his fingers. “Fase uno: si minimizza quanto si parla con la zia Nat. Parlare con lei, certo, parlare un po 'di russo con lei, chiedere circa la missione che è stata su, ma non parlare di infanzia, famiglia, o qualsiasi cosa eccessivamente personale.”

_[(Alright, here we go! Step one: you minimise how much you talk to Aunt Nat. Talk to her, sure, speak some Russian with her, ask about the mission she's been on, but do not talk about childhood, family, or anything overly personal.)]_

Morgan nodded along as he explained. “Bello. Fase due?”

_[(Cool. Step two?)]_

“Fase due: assicurati di non essere mai, mai solo con lei.” Peter continued counting off on his fingers, and frowned. “Lei è troppo percettiva per il suo bene, e il nostro bene, e se sei solo con lei, non c'è buffer nella conversazione. Niente le impedisce di vedere attraverso di te. Avere sempre papà, o Rhodey, o maggio, o Memaw, o Felice con te quando si sta parlando con lei.”

_[(Step two: make sure that you are never, ever alone with her. She is too perceptive for her good, and our good, and if you're alone with her, there's no buffer in the conversation. Nothing stopping her from seeing right through you. Always have dad, or Rhodey, or May, or Memaw, or Happy with you when you're talking to her.)]_

“Sì, è abbastanza facile - e, per quanto mi ha detto papà, siamo solo noi due, May, Hap, Rhodey, Memaw e Nat, quindi posso solo - sì.” Morgan nodded shortly to herself, and Peter grinned at the action in amusement.

_[(Yeah, that's easy enough - and, as far as dad told me, it's just the two of us, May, Hap, Rhodey, Memaw and Nat, so I can just - yeah.)]_

“E questo ci porta al passo tre: se ti trovi solo con lei, assicurati di emularmi perfettamente.” Peter wove his hand along as he explained, to enhance the meaning. “Quando siete solo voi due, devi essere completamente e completamente Peter Stark. Non puoi mostrare nessun Morgan Potts. Bve. Esattamente. As. Io.”

_[(And that brings us to step three: if you find yourself alone with her, make sure you're emulating me perfectly. When it's just you two, you have to be completely and utterly Peter Stark. You can't show any Morgan Potts at all. Be. Exactly. As. I. Am.)]_

Morgan groaned slightly, but gave a quick dip of agreement anyway.

“E infine - parte quattro:” He continued. “non mostrare paura o debolezza. Mostra emozione, mostra _le mie_ emozioni... ma non mostrare alcun nervosismo. Questo darebbe via che sei un impostore. E questo è ciò che vogliamo evitare qui.”

_[(And finally — part four: don't show fear or weakness. Show emotion, show my emotions... but don't show any nervousness. That would give away that you're an imposter. And that is what we want to avoid here.)]_

Morgan paused, continuing to bite her lip. “Okay… okay, cool. I got this.”

“You got this!” Peter exclaimed, shaking her arm slightly to encourage her. “You. Have. Got. This.”

“Yeah.” Morgan murmured, with a slight smile. “Yeah. I’ve got this.”

**_APRIL 04, 2025, 11:41 AM — GARDEN BEHIND THE STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan took a long, deep breath, standing next to the door that lead to the garden, slightly behind the drawn curtain so that nobody outside, in the garden, could see her. She repeated the steps of the ‘doing the impossible and tricking _the_ Natasha Romanoff’ plan.

_Step one: minimise how much you talk to Natasha._

_Step two: make sure that you are never, ever alone with Natasha._

_Step three: if you find yourself alone with Natasha, ensure that you’re emulating Peter perfectly._

_Step four: do not show fear, nervousness, or weakness in front of Natasha._

Easy _fucking_ peasy.

Totally.

Yeah.

She’s _got_ this.

Natasha had stayed in one of the many guest rooms last night — Natasha, May, Memaw and Rhodey had all stayed in guest rooms, so it was just Happy that had to drive himself to the ‘lunch party.’

This, Morgan knew, was for tactical reasons — if there were more cars at the house than usual, or more people arriving at once than usual, would strike the interest of their neighbours, and draw attention to them. Attention could lead to someone finding out that the house was owned and lived in by Tony Stark, which would lead to interest in any people under the age of twenty going into the house, which could potentially lead to Peters identity getting leaked.

None of which they could have. Any one of those things happening could lead to complete and total _disaster._

But, despite Natasha being in the house overnight, Morgan had managed to avoid her. The two of them hadn’t spoken much over dinner, and even less so after dinner. And that morning.

Morgan had been much too busy bonding with her father — which was going _amazingly._

Last night, they worked in the lab-workshop-garage thing until really late, doing repairs and updates of Iron Man suits, and changing up the motors of the fancy, expensive cars.

That was fun — and, true to his reputation, her dad was a fucking _genius._

She had slept in, and only gotten up about half an hour or so ago, so had avoided basically everyone the entire morning.

And now, she was preparing herself to face Peters family — _her_ family, too, she supposed — outside in the garden.

… honestly, it was kind of cute; three _Avengers_ , a surgeon, a bodyguard, a fourteen year old and an old lady, having a lunchtime garden party so that they could… _catch up._

Morgan took another stabilising breath, and walked out the door, into the garden. There were a couple of tall tables with drinks and food on them. String lights were hanging above them, strung between the trees in the yard, and everyone — all _six_ people — were talking contentedly.

Peters bedroom window had a view of the yard, but, in that moment, Morgan decided that she liked the garden much more this way, than looking down on it from the window — it was the atmosphere, and the fact that she was with he _dads_ side of the family… she’d wanted something like this — to have a cute garden party with her dad and his family — for as long as she could remember.

Of course, the fact that she had to be dressed up as her twin brother Peter to do so was… _sub-_ optimal, but… well, it was better than nothing.

She joined the family, grabbing herself a can of soda, a piece of peppercorn cheese — _her favourite —_ on a cracker. “Hey, guys. I have risen.”

“Hey, he’s finally awake!” Her dad exclaimed, moving over to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Welcome back to the land of the living,kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, good morning to you too, dad.” Morgan muttered.

“It’s _afternoon_ , now, guys!” Rhodey said loudly, from where he stood next to May.

“Still morning, Uncle Rhodey!” Morgan called back. “Only… quarter to twelve. Still fifteen until the afternoon.”

“Semantics.” Rhodey muttered, waving a hand to brush her off. Morgan laughed.

“I miss anything interesting? You guys do anything fun while I was sleeping?” She asked with a grin.

“Eh, just talking a bunch of shit about you, Pete!” May laughed, and reached forward to ruffle his (very short) hair.

“Oh, Maybelle, you big meanie!” Memaw interrupted, whacking Mays arm lightly. “Don’t tease your poor nephew that way. I hope that you’re nicer to him, Jimmy!”

“Oh, you know I am, mama.” Rhodey punched her shoulder. “I’m the best uncle ever, aren’t I, Peter?”

“Oh, just _amazing._ Nowhere near as cool as Nat, though.” Morgan laughed. “And Hap beats you, one hundred percent; he deals with my shit whenever he gets me from school, which is basically every —“

“Peter.” Her dad said softly, cutting her off and placing his hand back on her shoulder. “I, uh… need to tell you something, that… something that is going to become a big part of your life, now…”

Natasha, standing to the side slightly and watching the interaction with raised eyebrows, crossed her arms in front of her. “О, просто пойми с ним, Тони. Тебе лучше что-нибудь сказать, пока он не постучал в парадную дверь. У тебя меньше пяти минут.”

_[(Oh, just get it over and done with, Tony. It better you say something before it's knocking on the front door. You have less than five minutes.)]_

…okay, well. That sounded slightly threatening.

_Did she need to be worried._

Her dad glanced over at Natasha with one eyebrow raised. Peter had said that their dad knew Russian, so he obviously understood what the super-spy said.

“Right. Yeah, I, uh..” His grip of her shoulder tightened in a way that seemed… nervous, almost, and his breath caught before he kept talking. “There is someone else coming for lunch today, and she —“

The loud tune of the doorbell rang through the house, so that everyone in the garden could hear it. Morgans dad wiped his free hand over his face.

“Speak of the devil.” He muttered, then spoke rather bluntly — though Morgan could hear the worry and the stress and a bit of _something else_ in his voice — rambling through the words. “Okay. There is a woman coming for lunch with us, this lunch is so everyone can meet her and talk to her and y’all can all become buddies… her name is Katie Reed, and she and I are dating.”

He finished talking, and for a few moments, nobody said a word. The air was tense, and all Morgan could hear was her own heart beating in her ears.

_Her dad had a girlfriend._

_Her dad had a girlfriend._

_Her dad had a —_

_— holy shit, she had to tell Peter!_

“Что за дерьмо…” She muttered under her breath. “Что за!?”

_[(What the fucking shit… What the fuck!?)]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe there u go :))


	7. PART SIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so im running late (again)... and i rlly have no excuse, im just lazy, so sorry about that. 
> 
> i watched agent carter, and... wow. best decision of my life, it was amazing -- fuck endgame steve, he sucks, he should have stayed with bucky (who we all know is his perfect match) and let peggy live out her life with daniel sousa (because they are an amazing pair and i love them)
> 
> also, Jarvis (the guy, not the AI). jarvis is elite.

**_APRIL 04, 2025, 11:41 AM — GARDEN BEHIND THE STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Right. Yeah, I, uh..” His grip of her shoulder tightened in a way that seemed… nervous, almost, and his breath caught before he kept talking. “There is someone else coming for lunch today, and she —“

The loud tune of the doorbell rang through the house, so that everyone in the garden could hear it. Morgans dad wiped his free hand over his face.

“Speak of the devil.” He muttered, then spoke rather bluntly — though Morgan could hear the worry and the stress and a bit of _something else_ in his voice — rambling through the words. “Okay. There is a woman coming for lunch with us, this lunch is so everyone can meet her and talk to her and y’all can all become buddies… her name is Katie Reed, and she and I are dating.”

He finished talking, and for a few moments, nobody said a word. The air was tense, and all Morgan could hear was her own heart beating in her ears.

_Her dad had a girlfriend._

_Her dad had a girlfriend._

_Her dad had a —_

_— holy shit, she had to tell Peter!_

“Что за дерьмо…” Morgan muttered under her breath. “Что за!?”

_[(What the fucking shit… What the fuck!?)]_

“Well, it’s an, uh… yeah…” Her dad muttered, before May intervened, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, and pushing them apart slightly.

“Okay, Peter —“ May began, looking at him sympathetically. “— I know this is very new, and it’s going to be a big change for all of us, but… Kerri makes your father happy, and I’m sure that she’s a _wonderful_ woman, so lets just… meet her, and.. yeah.”

Even _May_ was having difficulty grasping the concept, it seemed. Her dad sighed heavily, a small smile on his face, and nodded. “I’ll get the door. Be back in a second!”

Morgan stared after him as he went back into the house, then slowly turned to look at her (Peters) family. “What the _fuck?”_ She asked them, blinking slowly to try make sense of the new development. “When did — who — _what?”_

Natasha winced slightly, and shook her head slightly. “Прошу прощения за то, что не сказал тебе об этом, племянник. Я был тем, кто подставил их — я должен был дать тебе предупреждение. ”

_[(I apologise for not telling you about this, nephew. I was the one that set them up — I should have given you some warning. )]_

Morgan frowned, and then sighed, as Natasha pulled her into an apologetic hug. “Все в порядке, тетя. Я просто... очень, _очень_ , удивлен.” She whispered the words into her Aunts shoulder. “Я не ожидал этого — типа, вообще.”

_[(It’s fine, Auntie. I m just… very, very surprised. I was not expecting this - like, at all.)]_

“Извините, пожалуйста.” Natasha murmured again, squeezing Morgan tightly, then releasing her, and speaking in a rush. “Но все будет хорошо. Я нашла ее, она была очень тщательно расследована, прежде чем я подставила ее с твоим отцом, и она очень хороший человек. Все будет в порядке.”

_[(I’m sorry. It's going to be fine, though. I found her, she's been very thoroughly investigated before I set her up with your dad, and she is a very nice person. It will be okay.)]_

Morgan screwed up her face in the most Peter-way she could manage, and made a small noise of agreement. “Его хорошо - Я доверяю вам. Я просто вид ... Шоке. Много шокировано.”

_[(Its okay -- I trust you. I'm just kind of... shocked. A lot shocked.)]_

Nat gave her a small smile, glanced in the direction that her dad had gone, then started reeling off information rapidly. Кэти Рид, четыре шесть — овдовех шесть лет назад, никогда не было детей с мужем. Родился в Вудсфилде, штат Огайо, в возрасте Лоры и Джеймса Рида, 27 января 1979 года. Родители развелись, когда ей было восемь лет, ее мать вышла замуж за г-на Чарльза Джонатана Прайда, и у них родилось еще двое детей, Кейси Роуз Прайд и Эдвард Сэмюэл Прайд. Покинул Огайо в 96 году, чтобы поехать в штат Мичиган и изучать микробиологию, окончил в 2000 году. Она переехала в Нью-йорк в 2011 году, после того как вышла замуж за Хита Джонса — на удивление сохранила свою фамилию — и до сих пор работает здесь в качестве ученого в области микробиологии.”

_[(Katie Reed, forty-six — widowed six years ago, never had children with her husband. Born in Woodsfield, Ohio, to Laura and James Reed, on January twenty seventh, 1979. Parents divorced when she was eight, her mother remarried Mr. Charles Jonathan Pryde, and had two more children, Casey Rose Pryde and Edward Samuel Pryde. Left Ohio in '96 to go to Michigan State and study Microbiology, graduated in 2000. She moved to New York in 2011, after she married Heath Jones — kept her own last name, surprisingly — and still works here as a healthcare scientist in the field of microbiology.)]_

“Направо. Хорошо. Спасибо - о, дерьмо, вот они приходят…” She shook her head, and looked up to see her father walking back in their direction through the house, the vague silhouette of a woman walking behind him. She started muttering under her breath, in Italian rather than Russian. “Ho questo, ho questo, ho questo. _Ho questo, ho questo, ho questo. Ho questo, ho questo, ho questo.”_

 _[(Right. Okay. Thanks — oh, shit, here they come…_ [Russian] _I've got this, I've got this, I've got this. I've got this, I've got this, I've got this. I've got this, I've got this, I've got this._ [Italian] _)]_

Morgan felt another hand resting on her shoulder, and glanced to see May next to her. The woman smiled, and reassured her in Italian. “ _Hai_ questo, Peter. Andra' tutto bene.”

_[(You have got this, Peter. It’s going to be fine.)]_

She put on a brave face, and turned to stare at her dad and _Katie Reed_ coming out to the garden. Her dad was smiling, his arm around Katie Reeds waist, smiling a little while gesturing to everyone standing in the garden.

Katie Reed was slight, average height, and wore casual clothes; blue jeans, and a knitted white sweater. She had short, dark, chocolate brown hair, and hazel eyes. She was smiling brightly, and blinked in slight surprise when she saw everyone — mainly her. Katies smile faltered slightly, eyes widening in surprise, and then returned to how it was before.

“Oh, wow, this is — I didn’t expect so _many_ people to be here!” She paused as again, as her gaze travelled over everyone standing in the garden.

“Oh — yes, sorry. Introductions.” Her dad smiled, slightly flustered, and gestured to everyone in turn. “My sister, May Parker. My best friend, James Rhodes — that’s Rhodeys mom, Roberta Rhodes. Natasha Romanoff, obviously, good friend of mine, and then —“ He reached out to pull Morgan toward them, patting her shoulder. “Peter, my one and only son.”

She was definitely surprised to see Morgan; that was certain. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, and her eyes widened, once again.

Morgan supposed it would be surprising — no one really would have met Peter as Peter Stark, rather than Peter Parker… other than Cindy and Ned and their parents. The son of Tony Stark wasn’t someone that people just met; much as the daughter of Pepper Potts wasn’t someone that people just met.

“Wow, uh, hi, Peter!” Katie Reed continued to stare at Morgan, and then held her hand out awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Katie — Katie Reed. It’s awesome to meet you — and honour, really.”

Morgan shook her hand stiffly. “Peter Stark.” She winced slightly, at having to introduce herself with Peters name. “It’s uh… cool to meet you, too, I guess.”

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The awkwardness so was intense, it was literally tangible.

Luckily, Memaw stepped in. She literally saved the day. “Hello, love!” She opened her arms to the woman, engulfing her in a hug. “It’s wonderful to meet you! I’m Robbie, you can call me Robbie — my idiot child over there basically adopted this man, and now I have two sons.”

Memaw laughed, and Katie Reed took the opportunity to laugh along slightly awkwardly, too. “I’m Katie, and it’s wonderful to meet you too, Mrs Rhodes —”

“ _Robbie._ ” Memaw cut over her. The younger woman gives a short laugh.

“Robbie.” She agreed, smiling. She glanced at Natasha nervously, but the grin stayed on her face.

Morgan _couldn’t stand it._

She absolutely _couldn’t_ watch as her family — _her dads side of her family, which was still strange to think about —_ socialised with her _dads girlfriend._

Her _dad,_ who until _yesterday,_ she hadn’t seen in _twelve years,_ and now apparently had a _girlfriend._

It was insane, and she _needed_ to _escape._

“I’m sorry, I need to, uh…” She pointed toward the house, and went inside, as a means of her escape. “Yeah, bye.”

“Pete —“ Her dad started. She spared him a glance, seeing the pained, sorrowful look on his face, but quickly turned, and kept trudging into the house.

The second she got inside the house, Morgan broke into a sprint, and ran upstairs, to her brothers bedroom. She got there, and collapsed onto the bed, covering her face with her hands, and letting out a loud groan. “What the fuck…” She muttered yet again. “What the _actual, fucking fuck.”_

She _needed_ to tell Peter.

She grabbed Peters phone from the bedside table, and texted him, _very hesitantly._

**_PETER:_ ** _peter…_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i have some really really awful life changing fucking terrible news_

 **_PETER:_ ** _bonus goods news tho_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i figured out why dads lunch seemed. fishy :)_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _um_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _im scared now_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _r u sure everyones okay?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _like nobody hurt themselves?_

**_PETER:_ ** _nobody hurt themselves_

 **_PETER:_ ** _its…_

 **_PETER:_ ** _a lot worse than that._

 **_PETER:_ ** _:(_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _o fuck._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _what is it_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _wHaT hApPeNeD bRo/SiS_

**_PETER:_ ** _well_

 **_PETER:_ ** _uh_

 **_PETER:_ ** _fuck i can’t do this_

 **_PETER:_ ** _shit im gonna tell you_

 **_PETER:_ ** _DaD hAs A GirLfRieNd_

There was no reply, for a minute. And then another minute. And then, a third minute.

Peter didn’t reply until it had been four minutes and twelve second — exactly. She had checked with FRIDAY. And FRIDAY was always correct; something she knew from both Peters explanation of his life, and her limited couple of days living with the AI.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _well._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i think you’ll have to excuse me._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i think that im_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _very not okay with this new revelation._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _fuck_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _fuck_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _fuck_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _fuck_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _fuck_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _w h a t_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _t h e_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _a c t u a l_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _f u c k_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _HOW THE FUCK DOES MY FUCKING FATHER HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!?!??!?!_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _WHAT THE FRICKETY FRACKETING FUCK_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _HOW_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _WHEN_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _WHAT THE FUCK DUDE_

**_PETER:_ ** _i m s o r r y b r o_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i_ _OnLy JuSt FoUnD oUt_

 **_PETER:_ ** _tHaTs WhAt LuNcH wAs FoR_

 **_PETER:_ ** _sO hE cOuLd TeLL yOu_

 **_PETER:_ ** _aNd ShE cOuLd iNtRoDuCe HeR tO eVeRyOnE_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _w h a t t h e f u c k_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _w h a t t h e a c t u a l f u c k_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _t h i s i s f u c k i n g a w f u l_

**_PETER:_ ** _i k n o w b r o / s i s_

 **_PETER:_ ** _WhAt ThE fUcK aM i MeAnT tO dO nOw BrO/SiS_

 **_PETER:_ ** _t h i s i s t e r r i b l e_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _iT iS tErRiBLe_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _WhAt ThE fUcK_

She didn’t wait to see the rest of her brothers reply. Instead, the threw the phone at the wall — _very hard —_ and stormed into Peters personal bathroom. She locked both of the doors — the one from Peters room, _and_ the one from the hallway — because she could _not_ chance someone seeing her with this _stupid fucking binder off._

She tore the binder off, and finally took a deep, not restrained breath. She _knew_ that keeping it on so long was bad. She _knew_ that forgetting to take it off last night was terrible.

And she _knew,_ more than _anything,_ that it _fucking hurt._ Her chest hurt, and her ribs hurt, and just… ow.

This was fucking awful.

Wearing a binder was _so_ fucking awful — Morgan had so much fucking respect for trans people, having to have this constantly, _plus_ people dead naming them, _plus_ all the oppression and shit. She respected them _so fucking much._

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there on the floor, binder off, Peters — _or dads? —_ big MIT hoodie, staring blankly at her hands…

… but eventually, a slightly distant knock, and an unfamiliar voice calling “Peter?”, drew her out of her crazily spinning thoughts.

The voice was a woman; but it wasn’t May. It wasn’t Aunt Nat or Memaw, either.

Katie _fucking_ Reed.

The little _fucking bitch_ that was destroying the _one_ chance that she and Peter had at having a whole family — even if their parents didn’t start dating again, they would have found out about Morgan and Peters… discovery. But now, she wasn’t sure they could do that.

Because of _Katie fucking Reed._

Morgan didn’t care if she was judging her dads girlfriend too quickly, from twenty literal seconds of interaction — she didn’t _like_ Katie Reed. She didn’t _care_ how fucking nice this lady was. She didn’t _care_ how much her dad liked her.

What she _did_ care about was her twin brother, and her mom, and her dad, and trying to form some sort of reconciliation between the two severed halves of her family, for the sake of _all_ of them — and _Katie Reed_ was going to stop that from being possible.

“Look, Peter..” Katies voice floated through from the main bedroom walls. “… I’m sorry, this must be… a shock for you — and… can we talk?”

She sighed loudly, and put the binder back on in irritation.

Katie _fucking_ Reed.

She unlocked the door leading back to Peters room, and then opened the bedroom door, glaring at her fathers _new girlfriend._

Katie startled when Morgan opened the door, and looked at her sympathetically. “Hey, Peter.”

Morgan crossed her arms, and squinted at the older woman. _“Ms. Reed.”_

“You can just call me Katie, Pete.” Katie said softly, reaching to place a hand on Morgans shoulder. “I _am_ dating your father, so I think that formalities —“

“Peter.” Morgan cut across her, unable to listen to her talk any longer. Katie looked a touch taken aback, but Morgan _didn’t care._ She _didn’t care._ “My name is Peter. It’s Peter or hey you.”

Katie sighed. “Sorry, Peter.” She sighed. “And… I’m sorry about… how hard this must be, for you — I did my research. I know that you don’t have a mother, and that it has always just been you and Tony against the world, but… I’m serious about your dad, and I hope I can become some sort of… _parental figure,_ for you. Some sort of… _mother,_ maybe.”

Oh, that was way, way too fucking forward for Morgans tastes.

And she didn’t need _‘some sort of mother’._ She already _had_ a _fucking mother._ Pepper Potts was her mother — and Peters mother. And May too, at some level; she had basically raised Morgans brother, coparenting with their dad so that Peter didn’t turn out a _complete_ carbon copy of Tony Stark — more so than he already was. Not this weirdo.

“I have my Aunt May for that, thanks. She basically raised me. And I have Natasha and Memaw — and I _don’t_ need any other sort of female parental figure in my life.” Morgan snapped, before muttering in Russian. “Ебать сука задницу мотыгой.”

_[(Fucking bitch ass hoe.)]_

“Excuse me?” Katie asked — she didn’t sound mad, so she obviously (probably luckily) didn’t know Russian. She just sounded genuinely confused.

“Oh, I just said, uh…” Morgan tried not to hesitate, and said the first excuse for her words that she thought of. “I’m really fucking hungry.”

“What language was that?” Katie asked with a slight chuckle.

Morgan also laughed, kind of nervously. “Oh, that was Russian — Aunt Nat taught it to me.” She started listing things that Nat had taught her off on her fingers, leaning against the wall casually. “She also taught me how to box — with Happys help, of course — and hand to hand combat, and how to shoot, and knife throwing... bit of ballet, too. She tries to take credit for teaching me how to hack, but she did that with dads help. When she comes over for dinner, and it just her and dad and I, we have competitions to see who can hack the Pentagon fastest — I’ve won three times.”

“Wow…” Katie murmured, looking a bit… _scared,_ maybe. “That's… a _lot.”_

 _“Yeah._ I mean, she wasn’t around too often when I was a kid — nowhere near as much as dad, or May, or… _Ben —_ but she sure is a good teacher. Really efficient at it too. I was fluent in Russian by the time I was four, thanks to her.”

“Wow.” Katie repeated. She actually seemed awed.

… _maybe_ she wasn’t as awful of a person as Morgan had assumed she would be. Maybe she and Peter could still reunite their parents, even with Katie in the picture.

 _Plenty_ of people had separated parents who started dating new people.

_It would be okay._

_Probably._

_Maybe._

_Hopefully._

Morgan sighed, and tilted her head to the side. “You wanna get some food?” She asked, straightening up, and making her way downstairs. “I’m pretty. Sure we have Oreos — Do you want some Oreos?”

Katie laughed, visibly relaxing. “I would love some Oreos — I brought a cake, too. We can have some of that too, if you want.”

“Oh?” Morgan asked, turning slightly as she walked down the stairs, raising her eyebrows. “What type of cake is it?”

“Strawberry cheesecake — my moms recipe.” Laura Reeds recipe. “It’s _really_ good.”

“Oh, I uh…” Morgan winced in embarrassment. “I’m allergic to strawberries.”

Which both she and Peter inherited from their mom; apparently, dark wavy hair and their eyes were a Stark trait, and the very unfortunate _strawberry allergy_ was a Potts trait — a very dominant one, too; her mom had it, she and Peter had it, Aunt Ginger had it, Grandad had it, and Violet and Delilah had it, too.

_A very dominant gene._

Katie blinked. “Oh, _shit —_ I’m so sorry — _shit,_ is Tony —“

Morgan laughed. “Nah. Dads not allergic to strawberries. And neither is May — I’m pretty sure I got it from… whoever my mom was.”

She _did_ get it from her mom. _Pepper Potts._

Katie smiled at Morgan sympathetically, put a gentle hand on her shoulder and sighed in relief. “Well, that is good to know. It would be a shame if I accidentally murdered my boyfriend, or his very infamous, very exclusive son.”

Morgan snorted, sneaking the packet of Oreos from the laundry cupboard and shoving one in her mouth, talking through her mouthful. “Yeah, that would’ve been a bit awkward. _Tony Stark killed by Girlfriend Katie Reeds, after accidentally eating strawberry cheesecake._ Hilarious.”

**_APRIL 03, 2025, 12:03 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter sat, staring aimlessly at the canvas infant of him, paintbrush in hand. He could not get Morgans news out of his head.

_His dad had a girlfriend._

_His dad had a girlfriend._

_His dad had a girlfriend._

_His dad had a fucking girlfriend._

_Jesus Christ, his dad had a fucking girlfriend—_

_—_ how in the fucking hell did his dad have a fucking _girlfriend._ How? Why? When?

What the fuck?

Morgan had said that her stress reliever was painting, and so here he was, sitting crosslegged in her bedroom, looking exactly like her, dressed in her clothes, about to use _her_ coping mechanisms.

This was probably one of the strangest experiences of Peters life — and his family consisted fifty percent of _Avengers._

Being dressed up as his twin sister, who he wasn’t meant to know about, with his mother, who he also wasn’t meant to know about, while said secret twin sister dressed up as his twin, and was meeting hid dads new _girlfriend._

… his dad had a fucking _girlfriend!_

He didn’t even — he couldn’t even _process_ it.

…When? How? _Why?_

He had _just_ got his chance at having a normal family, _finally —_ a family, with a mom, and a dad, and his sister, and…

… now that chance was _gone._

Because _now,_ his dad had a fucking _girlfriend._ A _girlfriend._ How did he even get one of those? Why did he get one? Why could he not have just waited _a few goddamn days!?_

If his dad had just waited a few days, he and Morgan could have confronted their mom and dad. They could have told them that they found each other, and everything would have been fine — even if they didn’t, like… _date_ each other, they could _reacquaint_ themselves.

But _now?_ Waay too awkward. Peter had held out hope that _maybe_ their parents had _some_ feelings remaining for each other — hence the never dating after their breakup, and never being able to talk to each other… _not anymore,_ though.

That hope was over.

Peter finally ceased his hesitation, and placed paint brush to canvas.

True to his word, he didn’t use Morgans beloved oil paints. He used her acrylics — which he decidedly _was not_ enjoying; oils were much nicer to use — instead.

He didn’t even really register what he was painting — he mixed colours, and painted then onto the canvas, and then mixed more colours, and painted them on. They swirled together, making a tapestry of colours, light and dark, bright and dull.

Peter was in a bit of a comfort zone, thanks to his very distracted and distraught emotions, and the very loud music blaring into his ears.

He must have painted un a haze for more than an hour. He didn’t hear his mom knocking on the door, as the _very_ loud rock music blasting into his ears was drowning her out; even with his _enhanced hearing._

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his mothers presence until she had barged into Morgans room, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped in surprise when he felt her touch, and turned to look up, eyebrows raised.

“We’re about to leave for lunch, hon.” She smiled at him softly, then frowned at the canvas that Peter was sitting in front of, considering it with her head tilted to the side. “That’s… what _is_ that?” Her tone wasn’t unkind, rather just…interested. A tad bit concerned, maybe.

“Uh, it’s… _well_ …” he copied his mothers actions, tilting his head to the side and considering whatever the fuck he had just painted in interest.

…he didn’t _know._ It was like… it was like the — it was like the strange, golden tinted memories that he had of the time before the family split, of his parents both dazed in silky golden light, faces undistinguishable from any random people hat he saw around on the street, but… recognisable enough; his moms strawberry blonde fringe and long her. His dads dark hair and goatee.

The colours were twisting and turning on the page, surrounding the only distinguishable features of his mom and dad — hopefully he wouldn’t give himself away as being _Peter,_ and not _Morgan._ That he wouldn’t hint to the fact that he knew who his dad was.

His mom frowned again, still staring at the canvas in confusion. “It’s nice. Very expressionist. Kind of modernist. What is it, though?”

Peter cleared his throat, so that he didn’t accidentally speak in his own voice. “You.” He said simply. “And dad, I think. That’s just… what I remember — from when I was a baby. I dunno.”

His mom grinned, and ran her hands through his long, wig hair comfortingly. “It’s lovely, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom.” He sad quietly, before standing up. “So… you said something about food?”

His mom scoffed. “You and your goddamn food, Mo.” Then, she laughed, and grabbed his arm. “Come on. We’re about to go to the Thai place — hurry up and get to the damn car.”

Peter basically sprinted down to the parking garage — choosing to take the stairs rather than the elevator, and still beating his mom and Azmariah (thanks, _super-spider-powers)._

He stood next to Azzys old Micra as he waited for the two women to arrive, and saw the surprise on both their faces when they saw him already standing there.

He pretended to be puffed and tired, as to not arouse any more suspicion that he already was, and managed to pant out the words. “Ready to go?”

Azzy laughed, and patted her shoulder friendlily. “Yep. Lets go! Everybody in, everybody in!”

Peter laughed, and squeezed onto the small backseat, racking his brain to remember what his sister had said about the Thai place.

 _‘We pretend to be another family. Mom and Azzy are half sisters, Vivian Johnson — widowed — and Azalea Hannaye, fifteen year age gap between them. I’m moms only kid, my dad died in a car crash.’_ Morgan had told him, while they were planning. _‘Mom and Az have the same dad, and he is an ex-jockey in a wheelchair. Azzy has an intense on and off relationship with a man named Derek Spooney…yeah. Just go along with whatever mom and Az come up with. Sunan at the Thai place believes absolutely everything that we tell him. And, we’re from New Jersey, so… have fun with that.’_

Peter nodded to himself in the backseat.

The Thai restaurant was less than twenty minutes away, driving, and they arrived very soon.

“Alright.” Peters mom looked between his and Azmariah, putting on a think pair of reading glasses, using a thick New Jersey accent. “Ready to do this shit?”

Peter snorted, then covered his mouth with his hand to stifle it, nodding. “Got it. Let’s go eat some food.”

The three of them left the car, and entered the small, slightly unkept looking restaurant. They were soon greeted my a short man — Sunan, Peter assumed.

The man grinned at their arrival, spreading his arms wide. “Oh, if it isn’t my three favourite ladies!” He exclaimed, bringing his extended hands together to clap happily. “Welcome, welcome! I have your usual table!”

“Thank you — _so much,_ Sunan. It is absolutely lovely to see you!” His mom exclaimed, pushing the fake glasses up her nose as Sunan led them to their table. “And my little sister has such _amazing_ news!”

“Oh?” Sunan continued to grin, raising his eyebrows. “What news would that be, Miss Azalea?”

“Well… oh, Sunan, it is absolutely _wonderful_ news!” Azzy took her seat, twisting a very cheap ring that she had put on her ring finger. “Soon, I won’t be Miss Hannaye anymore!”

The three continued talking, but Peter just stared straight ahead. He needed a distraction — from his dads new… relations.

And Liz Allan was having a party tonight.

Peter pulled out Morgans phone quickly, and sent two messages — the first to Morgan, who replied basically instantly; their dads new relationship was obviously hitting her very hard.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT DUDE_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _LIZ IS HAVING A PARTY TONIGHT_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _YOU HAVE TO COME_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _INVITE NED. ILL INVITE CINDY_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _it starts at seven_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _be there_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _or else._

**_PETER:_ ** _cool_

 **_PETER:_ ** _yeah._

 **_PETER:_ ** _ill be there_

 **_PETER:_ ** _literally anything to escape dad and KaTiE rEeD_

 **_PETER:_ ** _like she’s not awful but i just don’t like her_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _yea i bet_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _see u there_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _seven o’clock. out the front._

**_PETER:_ ** _ofc dude see u :)_

Peter smiled slightly, glancing up to make sure that his mom and Azzy were both still very concentrated on their conversation with Sunan — which they were.

He texted Cindy, his oldest friend — who, apparently, his sister had spilt their tea to — next.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _hey cindy_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _liz from acadec is having a party tonight at seven_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _s u r e l y you come with_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i can get us a ride :)_

**_CINDY (school):_ ** _cool_

 **_CINDY (school):_ ** _see u at lizs then :)_

 **_CINDY (school):_ ** _btw how’re things going with ur mom?_

 **_CINDY (school):_ ** _bEcAuSe I cAnNoT bELiEvE u fOuNd HeR !!!_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _yea yea we’ll talk about this later_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _at the party_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _bye :)_

Yeah. He was going to that party tonight — so that he and Morgan, with Ned and Cindys help, could _plot._

And also get some patrolling done — he just really needed something to take his mind off what was happening with his dad.

“Morgan!” He lifted his head at the unfamiliar voice calling his — well, _Morgans —_ name, and smiled at Sunan. “How was the school camp? You were very excited about it last time that I saw you!”

Peter smiled, trying to emulate Morgans facial expressions as best as he could, “Oh, camp was great, Sunan!” He said enthusiastically, making the man grin. “We went to MIT, and to the city — they gave us cake on the third night, because it was Caitlin Murrays’ birthday — it was all super fun.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. And interesting. There’s a lot of cool stuff in, uh, Boston. People too.”

Yes. Plotting with his sister had been both fun and interesting — now, they just had to stop Katie Reeds… _involvement_ with their dad from affecting their plan. Their lives.

**_APRIL 04, 2025, 07:12 PM — LIZ ALLANS HOUSE, SCARSDALE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan paused in the front seat of Mays car, Ned sitting behind her. She glanced around the front yard of Lizs’ house, looking for her brother and Cindy.

She couldn’t see them. Anywhere. They were lost in the mix of high schoolers somewhere.

“Ooh, house party in the suburbs; I remember going to these!” May smiled, looking over Morgan and Ned. “You have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Morgan muttered.

“Peter…” May turned to Ned. “He’s been so stressed out, lately.”

“What helps with _stress,”_ Ned said pointedly. “Is going to a party.”

“Right. Okay. Let’s go.” Morgan opened the door, and fled the car. “Ned!” She yelled after her, and Ned jumped out of the car after her.

“Peter!” He exclaimed. “Dude! Are we gonna talk about what happened before camp? Because —“

 _“Ned.”_ Morgan hissed. “Look, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I don’t know what happened before camp — I’m not Peter.”

“What the _fuck!?”_ Ned yelled, getting a couple of strange looks from people around them. Her brothers best friend stepped away from her, and glared with what she guessed was supposed to a menacing look. “Who the _fuck_ are you, then!?”

“I’m _Morgan,_ Ned.” She whispered, sending nervous glances around them. “You know me as… as Morgan Stacy. That’s not my real name.”

 _“What?_ Dude, what is _happening_ right now? Why are you dressed up as Peter? Why were you at his dads house? What is _going on?”_

Morgan groaned, and ran a hand over her face, like both Peter and their dad did very often. “Peter is my twin brother.” She said quietly. “You are one of four people to know that we know about each other — just you, me, Peter and Cindy. We need to talk about some stuff.”

She grabbed Neds arm, and started dragging him through the mass of people. They circled the crowd in the front yard for a good five minutes before they finally found Peter — still dressed up as her — and Cindy Moon.

Cindy grinned at her, and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Mo.” She said quietly, eyes flickering to Ned, who was standing completely still, gaping at Peters attire. “You tell Nedward over there about the situation at hand?”

“Yeah.” Morgan sighed, finally dropping the accent. “I think he’s in shock — and I haven’t even told him about _who_ our mom is, yet.”

Cindy snorted loudly, making Peter look over at them with raised eyebrows. “Oh sweet _Jesus,_ he is going to fucking _freak out!”_

“I cannot wait to see this.” Morgan laughed. “It’s gonna be hilarious!”

“YEah it is!” Cindy exclaimed.

Morgan nodded, and grabbed her bothers arm slightly aggressively. “Bro! Switchity swatchity, swippity swappity time!”

By some miracle of… _singular shared braincell in constant limbo_ magic, Peter understood. Her brother nodded once, then they turned to Ned and Cindy at the same time. Their two friends both stared at them, looking slightly scared.

“What? What’d we do?” Peter asked, looking between Ned and Cindy, then staring at Morgan in desperation.

“I—“ Cindy blinked in surprise. “I literally just realised that you guys are actually the exact same person. This is whack!”

Morgan and Peter left out identical laughs, before Morgan spoke. _“We_ are going to go become ourselves again — meet us in the living room in ten minutes; we need to like… _debrief_ y’all on what’s going on, so that we can make our plan.”

“Okaay.” Ned said, still looking as though he was in shock. “See you guys in ten, then.”

Morgan smiled, patted Neds hand, and then went off in the direction of the bathrooms. She changed into her own clothes, brushed her hair up into a ponytail — which, admittedly made her look a bit too much like her mom, when she did her _‘don’t pull any shit’_ face — and rubbed off her _Peter_ disguise. She left the bathroom within five minutes, and found Peter in the hallway. 

“You’re you again.” She said gratefully, engulfing him in s hug. “Thank god — it is so weird to look at _you_ but see… _me.”_

“It is. God, I can’t wait for this to be over.” Peter gave her a small grin. Morgan frowned.

Because maybe it _wouldn’t_ be over. Maybe dad dating Katie Reed, who was… she was alright, but she wasn’t overly fun. Or interesting. And she just stuck out like a sore thumb around the rest of the family.

Katie just wasn’t… she wasn’t _the right fit —_ for their dad, or for their family. She was plain. Boring.

But if their dad was _actually_ serious about her, then she would constantly _be_ there — and who knew what that meant for Morgan and Peter. Maybe Katies constant present would mean that they had to seperate again. Maybe their mom would be mad about their dad dating — maybe, maybe, _maybe —_

_— may-fucking-be._

“Yeah.” She said quietly. “Maybe.”

Peter paused, and stared at her. “Maybe?”

“Mmhmm.” She said, dragging him in the direction of the living room that they had been in earlier. “It’s a maybe — we need to talk to Ned and Cindy about everything; we need a plan.”

“Yeah, I —“

“—Peter! Morgan!”

They both turned around, and Ned and Cindy met up with them.

“Change of plan!” Cindy grabbed them both, dragging them in the other direction. “We’re not talking in the living room. Come with us.”

Morgan fell into step next to Cindy, Peter and Ned in front of them, as all four walked in the direction of the kitchen. Ned was babbling, hissing, “Peter! What the hell!? _Peter!_ Morgan is your _twin? What?”,_ and she and Cindy laughed at his little freak out.

“Oh, hey, guys — cool hat, Ned!”

Morgan looked up, and saw Liz Allan standing there, talking to Peter and Ned.

“Hey, uh, great — great party Liz! This is really — awesome!” Peters voice was small, and Morgan could see that he was nervous.

Oh.

_Oh._

Peter _liked_ Liz Allan.

Like, _like_ liked.

Honestly, that explained so, _so_ much to Morgan.

They all stood in an awkward silence for a minute, before they heard the sound of something smashing. Liz groaned.

“I better go get that — my parents’ll kill me if anything’s broken.” She frowned apologetically, and left in the direction of the noise.

Peter sighed, his shoulders slumping, and Ned patted his shoulder.

Morgan was distracted by the sound of Flash Thompson speaking through the DJ microphone. “Penis Parker, what’s up! Hey, where’s you pal Spider-Man?”— a sound effect— “That’s not Spider-Man, that’s just Ned in a red shirt!” — another should affect.

Ned had made a _huge_ mistake by saying that Peter knew Spider-Man during gym yesterday.

She wasn’t sure if he did; Spider-Man was, on rare occasion, seen corresponding with Iron Man, but that didn’t confirm anything.

Peter saying that he knew Spider-Man through a _Stark Internship_ was possibly even more problematic. Stark Industries _did_ have a high school internship program — a pretty big one, too; seven states, fifteen hundred participants — specifically so that the son of Tony Stark and the daughter Pepper Potts could use an internship as an excuse for their correspondence with the company they would someday co-own and run, without it being to suspicious or giving away their identity.

Still, though. One out of fifteen hundred; if anyone dug far enough, they would see that it wasn’t a real Internship, but a coverup.

They could _not_ afford that.

Morgan huffed, and pushed Peter in the direction they had been walking, trying to block out Flashs terrible DJing.

“It’d be really helpful if you told us where we were going, guys.” Peter rolled his eyes. Morgan could tell that the comments Flash had made affected him — they always did — and that he was trying to hide his hurt. For everybody else, the hurt was probably very well disguised, but Morgan knew better; he was her _brother_ , their faces were basically identical. She could read his emotions as easily as she could read her own.

Their identical faces was definitely the biggest contributor to making it easy to understand Peter James Stark.

She could see that he was hurt, but she was not going to bring that up in front of their friends. They could talk about it… _later.”_

“There’s a cupboard under their stairs; it’s big enough for all of us to sit in — we’ll just have to be a bit cramped.” Ned said quickly, obviously still in shock about the fact that _Peter Stark and Morgan Potts —_ well, he knew her as Stacy, but whatever — _were twin brother and sister._ “We’re gonna have to pre-Hogwarts _Harry Potter_ this shit!”

Morgan didn’t blame him; she had known for a fortnight, and was _still_ in shock about it.

She could tell that said _twin brother_ was still in shock about it too.

After all, it was quite large news to digest. To understand and process. To make anything resembling peace with at all.

Cindy led the way to the — surprisingly large — cupboard, and ushered them all into it, trying (and kins of failing, even though no-one was saying anything about the strange action) to make them unnoticeable.

The cupboard was dark and cramped, bit there was enough space for them to awkwardly squish onto the floor, sitting cross-legged, and put a shining torch light in the middle of them, for some light.

Ned, who seemed like he was about to burst, spoke first. “So? What do we need to plan; what’s _happening? —_ you know, other than the fact the _Peter_ and _Morgan_ are _twins —_ and have been pretending to be each other so that Morgan can meet their dad, and Peter can meet their —“

“—we get it, Ned.” Morgan cut across softly. “It is a lot — even we’re having some trouble coming to terms with it, right Pete?”

Peter nodded, and swallowed. “Right. Anyway, we have a crisis, our —“

“—our dad has a girlfriend!” She blurted out, and Peter flinched at how loud she spoke. “— sorry for yelling bro — he has a girlfriend, and that’s all kinds of terrible, and I don’t like her all that much, and —“

“— and we don’t know what her being in dads life could mean.” Her brother continued, with an audible sigh. “… for _us —_ Morgan and I — that is. And for mom, too, I guess.”

Cindy raised an eyebrow at the mention of their mom. Neds — still ignorant to their mothers identity — opened his mouth in excitement, about to speak. Morgan groaned. So did Peter.

“You’re just going to have to tell him who she is.” Cindy whispered in Morgans ear, making her sigh.

She nodded. “Ned.” She said. Slowly, in a soft, placating tone, as though she were trying to talk down a crazed animal. “We should have told you sooner, we know; and lying and saying that we were sort-of cousins wasn’t right either, but we couldn’t well just tell you who our mom was in the middle of the cafeteria where anyone could overhear us.”

“And?” He asked expectantly. “Who is she — your mom?”

Morgan winced internally as she said her next words, knowing that Ned was going to lose his absolute shit — and, with four of them squished so close together, his reaction would not be fun. By telling him, there was a possibility that she was endangering everyone in the small cupboard.

But she had to bite the bullet. She took her brothers hand, gave it a tight, comforting squeeze, and spoke. “Our mother… is Pepper Potts.”

Neds jaw dropped. Peter flinched. Cindy grinned in excitement.

Ned was definitely in shock — even _more_ shock than he had already been in. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish, eyes wide and unblinking. He started to shake slightly.

“Pepper — _fucking —_ Potts!” He managed to get out, heaving with the effort of talking — and the effort of bringing air into his lungs. “Is your fucking _mom!_ And your dad is _Tony Stark!_ Oh my _God! Peter! Morgan!_ This is in _sane! Crazy!”_

Morgan nodded, somewhat irritably, and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peter rolling his eyes.

Okay, so _maybe,_ despite still not having _completely_ over the shock that they were the children of _Tony Stark_ and _Pepper Potts_ themselves, the way that _other people_ — that being the two whole people, Ned and Cindy, that they had told of the revelation — were reacting to it was getting a _tad_ annoying.

“— _holy shit!” N_ ed continued to ramble, gaping between Morgan and Peter. “Your parents were like, _together!_ And they’re — _them?_ You know? And — oh my god, why didn’t you tell me about this _ages_ ago — like, why did you say you didn’t know who your mom was? And you never told me that you had a twin? And why did your twin only _just_ move to New York? And how come —“

 _“Ned_ ,” Peter interjected, “We _didn’t know —_ about this... not until she moved here, and we met, and creepily jacked into each other’s lives, and we —“

“— you get the picture.” Morgan cut in, not wanting to hear _either_ of them rambling anymore. “Point is, mom and dad don’t _know_ that we know — and we were gonna wait a week or so, get comfortable with them, and then break the mess to them, but...”

“... dad having a girlfriend could interfere with that.” Peter finished her train of thought. “We don’t know how she’d react or what she’d do. _Or_ bow mom and dad will react and what _they_ will do, but that’s not the issue here, the _issue —_ “

“— is that Katie Reed is a liability; we don’t know all that much about her, we don’t have all that long to get a gage on her personality or possible personal vendettas or ulterior motives...”

“Which makes her very problematic for us; we can’t break the news to mom and dad without her finding out, but her knowledge of the situation could be catastrophic.”

“If she found out — basically if she and dad are still _dating_ when we tell our parents...” Morgan pointed out. “Then she could do anything; tell the press, absolutely ruin mom and dad, stop us from seeing each other, tear dad away from us...”

“Basically, we have no idea what she can and will do — and that makes her very, _very_ dangerous. To us.” Peter summed up. “So… we need a plan. And a good one, at that.”

“A _really_ good one.” Morgan echoed.

Because, yeah. This was going to be a fucking trail by fire — because Katie Reed was a complete wild card, they knew next to nothing about her and she was capable of… and _Morgan just had a really bad feeling about her._

— call her crazy, but some random lady suddenly turning up, _dating_ the father that she only just found, _destroying_ the first chance that she had ever had at a whole — though somewhat (very) fucked up — family, wasn’t exactly going down great with her.

She had been _this_ close to having that family — it had been _right_ within her grasp.

And now, it was just gone — and Morgan wanted to know exactly why, and exactly what brought the _girlfriend_ into her fathers life.

Ned seemed to explode — eyes widened further, mouth opened wider, just showing complete and utter amazement. “Holy _shit, holy shit — this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Guys —_ I — holy shit! This is insane! And amazing, and —“

Ned stopped at the expression on Peters face — and so did Morgan.

Her brother was frozen, looking to their right — into the back of the cupboard — his eyes alert; maybe a bit scared, surprised. His expression was urgent and pressing.

Something was very, _very wrong._

Peter shook his head, and spoke in a low, urgent voice. “I have to go.” He said, something… _strange_ in his words. Something Morgan had never heard in her brothers voice. “Morgan,”

She nodded, and Peter continued. “Go back to dad tonight. May said she’d pick you and Ned up after this thing, right?” — another nod — “Cool. Just keep going as you did today; dig up as much as you can on Katie, find out _everything_ about her, and what her dead is.”

“Right. Got it.” Morgan nodded.

“Cindy,” This time, Cindy snapped her eyes up to look at the suddenly very having-his-shit-together Peter. “I’ll text Azzy, say I’m going to yours for a while, to watch movies and shit — _whatever…_ I’ll be at yours in a few hours, I’ll look like her—“ Peter pointed at her “—and Az will pick me up around midnight.”

“Cool.” Cindy said. “Easy.”

Peter stood, and started making his way to the door of the cupboard — but was stopped by Neds voice. “Wait, _Peter!”_ He exclaimed. “What about me, what — what do I do? What do I —“

“Ned.” Peter said quickly. “Trust me, there’ll be a better plan soon, but I have really—“ He gritted his teeth “— _have to go. Right now.”_

Ned gave up in whatever attempt he had at getting a bigger role in the plan, and let him go. Peter rushed out of the small space.

Morgan sighed. “ _Jesus Christ.”_ She muttered. “I swear to god, that brother of mine is going to drive me _insane_ one of these days.”

Ned and Cindy gave her a bit of a strange look — completely necessary, she understood; they had both known her brother for a lot longer than her, and she _was_ at a bit of an imposition, with everything that was happening with Peter that _they_ would usually be involved in, that she was now a large part of…

Who knows, really.

What _was_ for sure, though, was that Peter had obviously learnt his… great ‘hiding people from stuff that’s happening in my life’ skills from Aunt Nat.

So Morgan most definitely had not completely figured out her twin brother yet — maybe she never would.

(She hoped she would, though)

**_APRIL 04, 2025, 08:00 PM — LIZ ALLANS HOUSE, SCARSDALE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter heard the explosion, and he knew that he was going to get involved — it wasn’t in his nature to enjoy himself when he _knew_ that there was important shit going down; hence why he became Spider-Man.

He only heard it because of his (very extremely) enhanced hearing, and so his reaction to the noise definitely caused Morgan, Ned and Cindy some Alarm.

Second guessing his decision to go after the noise, and do whatever he could to help people, and/or apprehend the people responsible for it (if there were people responsible for it) was not something that Peter ever did… second guessing how smart he was after realising that he couldn’t swing off nothing, and therefore had to run to the source of the sound _definitely was_ something that Peter did.

He was lucky that he brought his suit, in the backpack that now held his _him_ clothes, and his Morgan disguise; he had planned on going for a little patrol after the party, then lying to Azmariah about doing so…

… now he wouldn’t do that, because of the very rushed, very last minute plan.

He’d been in a rush to get to the exploding stuff, and so hadn’t thought it through _extremely_ well — he was distracted; who could blame him?

And now — now he was stuck to the side of a bridge, watching an illegal weapons deal go down — not exactly what he had planned on doing right now, but… oh well.

He also hadn’t planned on accidentally finding his estranged twin sister when he came back from spring break, or for his dad to ever, _ever_ have a _girlfriend —_ and yet here he was.

Although he couldn’t make a full on, _proper_ suit — for fear of FRIDAY snitching on him, and his dad finding out — he was glad for the tech that he _had_ included; that being his goggles, his web-shooters, and his drone.

“Droney.” He whispered, and the drone flew away from where it was attached on the chest of his suit — which _may_ just be pants and a hoodie, but he had almost been caught, just with how much stuff he had to use to make the three pieces of technology that he _had_ integrated into it. “Film this — audio and visual.”

The little drone flew away from him, and he tuned in on the conversation that the men were having.

There was a blast of bright blue light, and a man laughed loudly. “Now this is crated from a reclaimed sub-Ultron arm straight from Sokovia — here, you try.”

The first man passed the weapon to another, smaller man next to him, and Peter suppressed a groan.

Jesus, ten years since Sokovia, and Ultrons shit was still around — evidently still causing chaos.

The second man seemed a lot more hesitant with the weapon thing, from what Peter could see. And he sounded a bit annoyed. “Man, I wanted something low-key.. why you tryna up sell me, man?”

“Okay, okay, okay!” The other assured. “I’ve got what you need. I got tons of great stuff here — One second, kay?” He moved closer to the van, throwing the sub-Ultron weapon in the back, and looking through the other stuff in it. “We got, uh — black hole grenades —“

Peter lost interest in the first man, as a third started talking to the second. “Firing shots in a public area.” The third mans voice was low. “Look, times are changing and we’re the only ones selling these high tech weapons.”

“Oh!” Peter whispered to himself in realisation, remembering the night Ned found out about this _particular_ secret. “This must be where the ATM robbers got their stuff!”

“Hey, I just need something to stick up somebody, I’m — I’m not tryna — shoot them back in time —“

“I got… anti-grav climbers…” The first guy continued, still looking through the back of the van.

That, apparently, interested the second man, who stopped talking, and stepped closer to the open back doors of the van. “You got climbers?”

It was _then_ that Peters — _Morgans —_ phone began to ring. It wasn’t overly loud, being on silent and all, but the sound of the vibrations was enough to draw the attention of the three bad guys to him.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Guy number three said. They all started looking around uneasily, looking for the source of the buzzing.

Peter panicked a little, trying to turn the phone off. Azmariahs name and contact photo flashed infant of him, before her hit the ‘decline’ button.

But not before guy one and three had pulled their guns on guy two. “You set us up?”

“Hey, hey, man—“

“Hey! Hey, come on! You gonna shoot at someone, shoot at me!” Peter exclaimed as he flipped onto the ground.

The third man turned to him, gun still raised and ready to shoot. “Aight.”

Just a second before he was about to get shot — _again —_ Peter shot a web at the gun, and threw it away from them.

He ran towards the bad dudes, but then —

— then the first guy punched him with some sort of weird… punching device thing.

He flew back into a tree, which snapped at the impact.

The two men with the weapons got into the van, and the second guy got in his own car and drove away. He shot a web at the door of the van, and it started dragging him through the suburbs.

If, in the five or so minute long chase that then commenced, Peter did some embarrassing stuff — including but not limited to crashing into a trash can, crashing into a parked car, destroying a mail box, making a treehouse fall out of it’s tree, falling in a pool, and terrifying a couple of little kids that he crash landed in front of… well, nobody needed to know.

But, after all that, he almost had them — he was gaining on them easily, he just had to jump, and land on their van. Easy peasy.

“Thought you’d get away from me, didn’t ya?” He huffed out, as he ran across the rooftops. “I’ve got you right — where I want you —Surpriseee!” He yelled, as he jumped, and he almost —

— he didn’t land on the van. Instead, some weird flying vulture guy thing picked him up out of the sky.

“What the hell!?” He muttered, as the thing looked down at him with its glowing green eyes.

They were going up, and up — something beeped — the emergency parachute he had put in the back of his hoodie-suit detonated — the flying guy dropped him — he was free falling —

— the parachute didn’t detonate properly, it was wrapping around him, he was falling, falling, falling — he hit the water.

He hit the water, and he couldn’t breathe. He kicked around, trying to escape the parachute, trying to get out, to swim up to air, because he couldn’t breathe —

— he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, _he couldn’t breathe —_

And then, something was grabbing him. A person. They grabbed him beneath the arms, and — _flew? —_ him out of the water, the parachute being left behind to sink.

Damn — installing another was going to be a pain in his ass.

Peter lifted his head slightly, and saw the red and gold of an Iron Man suit. “Oh..” He murmured. “Oh, hey..”

Somehow, he only connected the fact that they were _flying_ to his dad when he saw the colours. And it wasn’t until he realised _that_ that he found himself listening — and hearing — his dad heartbeat; the familiar, slightly off beating that his dads heart, and the arc reactor, made every moment of every day.

It was comforting. His dad, saving him from drowning…

… and then he was stressed for a whole new reason.

He was _here,_ as _Spider-Man —_ and his _dad_ was here, while he was being _Spider-Man._

His dad was gonna find out he was Spider-Man, his dad was gonna find out he was Spider-Man, _his dad was gonna find out he was Spider-Man —_

_— his dad was going to fucking kill him._

His dad was going to find out about his alter ego, and he was going to freak out, and then Peter would be grounded, and then that would bust open the whole plan with Morgan, and everything would absolutely _fall apart._

And they absolutely _could not_ let that happen.

Iron Man set him down on the climbing frame of a playground, and hovered infant of it, mask staying down.

Yeah, that meant that his father was _not_ in the suit — manning it through FRIDAY, no doubt; who knew what he was actually doing right now… who knew if he was with the now-famed _Katie Reed_ right now.

But, despite him definitely not _actually_ being there, Peter could tell that he was mad. Very mad.

Oh fucking shit.

_… did he know?_

_He’d better not fucking know._

If he knew, Peter was deader than dead. If he knew… Peter didn’t even want to _think_ about the consequences of his dad knowing.

Iron Man continued to stare at him, and then his fathers voice cut through the air — and though Peter could tell that he wasn’t actually _there,_ somehow the effect was as though his dad was actually talking to his angrily. “Can you tell me exactly _what_ just happened, _Spider-Man.”_

Peter winced.

His dad was not giving him any indication as to whether or not he _knew_ that Spider-Man was none other than _Peter James Stark,_ his _only son._

“Well — I — I —“ The suits head tilted slightly, and Peter sighed, then lowered his voice. “There were these guys — and they were testing… I dunno, some sort of weird alien weapon things — one of ‘em said something about sub-Ultron? I dunno — anyway, they saw me, and I started chasing them, and there was this —this flying dude, and he — he just — he swooped down — like a master, and he picked me up, and he — he — he took me up, like a thousand feet, and just dropped me… wait — how’d you find me?”

“Never mind that.” His had said coolly. “What were you _thinking?”_

“The guy with the weapons is obviously the source of the weapons! I’ve gotta take him down!”

 _“Take him down,_ now, huh? Steady crocket there are people that _handle_ these things.”

Peter knew that neither the Iron Man suit, nor his father could see it, but he glared beneath his mask. “With all due respect, Mister Stark —“ He groaned internally at calling his own dad _Mister Stark._ “— _I_ can handle this.”

The suit heaved, as though his dad was sighing, and waved an arm to accentuate his point. “Look, Spidey, you do good work — I’ve seen what you do; muggings and robberies and cats in trees and whatnot — but this is a bit over your head.”

Peter huffed, and crossed his arms.

God, he was actually _freezing._

His dad cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly. “Look, kid — and seriously, don’t even deny that you’re under the age of twenty-five; I have a teenager, I know how kids talk —“ Peter rolled his eyes. “— I know your touchy about your identity and stuff — I never really got into the whole secret vigilante thing, but I get it — so I won’t snoop and try find you.”

That, Peter was very grateful for — and it also meant that his dad didn’t know, which was definitely a positive.

“What I _will_ do, though,” His dad continued through the suit. “is give you this.”

The suit produced a large, silver briefcase from behind it, and passed it to Peter. He grabbed it, and looked at it sceptically.

“Your in dire need of an upgrade — so there it is; hundred point restoration, top to bottom.”

Peter actually grinned a bit at that — his dad made him a suit! “Wow, this is — this is — thanks!”

“Yeah, don’t worry bout it.” The sun shrugged. “It also comes with an offer.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, his scepticism growing.

The suit moved slightly, and Peter knew his dad was talking to someone — especially when his voice quietened a lot, and he said, “What do you mean? He’s — he wants to stay later — okay, okay, I’m a bit — yeah, thanks May.” Iron Man straightened, and then raised his voice back to its usual volume. “Sorry about that. The offer is that if you want to help out with your suit sometimes — I’ve seen your web-shooters, and they’re pretty damn impressive, and I could barely figure out the web formula myself, so I know you’re into this sorta stuff — you are perfectly welcome to drop round the tower sometime. To help out.”

“Oh, well, uh…” Peter looked around desperately, searching for some form of escape. “I’ll just go, then — bye, Mister Stark!”

He hopped down from the climbing frame, and (speed) walked back in the direction of Lizs house, and the party, briefcase in hand.

Once he saw the Iron Man suit flying away, he rushed back to the park, to the public toilets — he knew that his dad would have put some sort of tracker in the suit, and he couldn’t have that giving away who he was.

And right now, he was very lucky that he always kept tweezers on him, in case of bullet wounds — because yes, he really was about to remove a tracker and hack into a suit made by Tony Stark, in a public bathroom with nothing but a phone and an old (very well used) pair of tweezers.

Eh, he had this — after all, Tony Stark _had_ raised him, and he knew exactly how his dad built things.

His dad could have fun tracking the old soccer ball that was in the playground.


	8. PART SEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYY this chapter is late again ( s o r r y )
> 
> aLsO jUsT tO cLaRiFy -- when the texts say MORGAN its technically peter, and when they say PETER its morgan texting 
> 
> so... yeah :) enjoy :)

**_APRIL 05, 2025, 9:35 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan stabbed her spoon into her bowl of cereal aimlessly. She was well and truly distracted; her sleep deprived, caffeine craving brain running a mile a minute to try connect the dots, and figure out her goddamn brother.

Here were the facts;

1) Peter looked up very abruptly at the party, then promptly left, appearing flustered.

2) Ned avoided talking about the ‘Peter disappearing’ incident for the rest of the night, and proceeded to talk about Star Wars for an hour.

3) Peter reappeared at the party about an hour later, with a briefcase that he had somehow acquired. He didn’t say anything about it, got changed into his Morgan disguise, then left with Cindy, as per the plan.

4) After he reappeared at the party, Peter seemed jumpy and nervous. He was also coughing quite a lot, and holding his back like an old man would — suggesting some sort of back injury... likely from impact, if the way he was acting about it was anything to go off.

5) Peter point blank denied being hurt, despite it being _painfully_ obvious that he _was_ hurt; especially to Morgan.

So, Morgan could safely assume that her brother was in some deep shit — and she could not _for the life of her_ figure it out.

She didn’t _like_ not knowing things.

Morgan had basically gone straight to bed when she got home from the party last night... but that didn’t mean that she had gone straight to _sleep_ — _no_ , instead of getting some much needed (and overdue) rest, she spent her night aimlessly mulling over the four facts that she had, trying to find answers.

She still hadn’t found those answers, though, so it was pretty pointless.

“Peter?”

She didn’t realise until a moment later that the person speaking — _May_ her mind supplied — was talking to _her._ She still wasn’t completely used to living as her brother. Used to _being_ her brother.

May placed a hand on Morgans shoulder, pulling her from her trance. “You alright, Pete?”

Morgan looked up at her aunt, and smiled reassuringly — although she knew that she probably looked like shit doing so. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

May, obviously, was not buying it, and pulled out the stool next to Morgans, and sat down. “Y’know, Nat was worried about you, yesterday.” Morgan tried not to freak out, wondering _if Nat knew —_ as May continued. “Yeah, you were so distracted, and I know this whole Katie thing is a huge change, but…”

She paused, and bit her lip slightly. “… you just didn’t seem yourself.”

Morgan didn’t even want to wonder about what was going through Mays head when she said that. She just grimaced. “I’ve just been… stressed, lately, and this whole —“ She waved her hand vaguely. “— _Katie_ thing is not helping anything _at all.”_

May looked at her sceptically, eyebrows raised. “Well.” She straightened up, looking Morgan dead on. “I’ve known Peter ever since he was born.”

Morgan jumped in surprise. “You’ve known _Peter?_ May, what do you _mean —_ You’ve known _me_ my whole —“

The woman shook her head, and frowned. “Look, I don’t know who you really are, or what you want…. But I _know_ that you are _not_ my nephew — Ben and I half raised him; whenever Tony was busy, and doing his _Tony_ stuff — so I _know_ when someone isn’t him.”

“May, I’m me — you know I’m me, I’m —“

“Your appetite has changed, your Russian sounds different, you’re not _you_ — you’ve been acting so strange, it’s almost like you're —“ May stopped herself, and let out a short, breathy laugh. “Never mind, it’s impossible.”

“Almost like I’m _who,_ May?” She asked defensively.

Mays eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise. She shook her head again. “No, no-one, just… forget I said anything. Don’t worry about it.”

“Almost like I’m… _Morgan?”_

Her Aunt froze completely, staring at Morgan in shock, some sort of pain — _loss —_ mixed into her expression. When she spoke, Morgan could barely hear her, he cracked voice barely above a whisper. “You _know_ about Morgan?”

 _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit —_ This was _not_ a part of the plan… but now she’d shown May her cards, and May had said that Nat had noticed too, so Natasha probably already knew, and…

_She would just have to come clean._

For fucks sake.

Morgan shook her head. “I don’t… _know_ about her, I…” She sighed heavily, and looked down into her cereal bowl. “I _am_ her.”

May, once again, was frozen. Completely frozen.

Then, she started opening and closing her mouth uselessly, unable to form coherent words.

She managed just two quiet, stuttered words. “You’re — _Morgan?”_

Morgan pressed her lips together, and nodded. “I’m Morgan.”

“Oh my god.” May whispered. “Oh my god, you’re —“ She cut herself off, staring at Morgan with so much _love_ and _affection_ and _adoration_ that she felt a bit uncomfortable from it. Tears came into Mays eyes, and she wiped them away almost aggressively. “You’re Morgan!”

Morgan had opened her mouth to reply — but, of course, her dad chose that moment to walk in. “Hey, kid. Hey, angry tomato farmer.”

Morgan blinked, and shook her head subtly, so that only May could see — saying, _no, don’t say anything to dad, please._

She was silently begging her aunt to keep the secret.

May gave a short, barely visible nod in return, but continued to stare at Morgan, with a teary, love-filled, amazed expression.

“Why’re you looking at him like that?” Morgans dad was looking at May, eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What’s going on — why are you giving him that look?”

“I’m not — I’m not giving him a special look, I’m…” May gave a short laugh, and Morgan could see that she was trying to keep the tears from spilling. “I’m looking at him like I have for fourteen and a half years, like I have since the day he was born… five pounds, eight ounces, seventeen inches long — _this is how I look at him!”_ The tears began to fall, and May let out a small sob.

Morgan reached across, and pulled her aunt into a tight hug, turning her head to look at her dad. He raised his eyebrows, and Morgan shook her head in reply. _‘I dunno,’_ she mouthed, _‘she’s just being super emotional. I dunno what happened.’_

Her dad seemed to stifle a laugh, and mother back, _‘Maybelle the_ tearful _Italian tomato farmer.’_

Morgan laughed silently, and gave a small nod. Her dad grinned. “Okay, May, detach yourself from my kid for a second — I haven’t had _my_ morning hug yet.”

May laughed softly, and pulled away from Morgan, her cheeks wet with tears. Morgan scoffed. “Sorry, old man — only May gets my _amazing_ morning hugs.”

“Now, see, that’s not _fair.”_ He insisted. “ _She_ didn’t _do the devils tango_ so that you could —“

“lalalalalaalalla!” Morgan said, plugging her ears and speaking over him. “I _really_ don’t wanna know about you _‘doing the devils tango’,_ dad — this is _exactly_ why only Aunt May gets my hugs.”

“But, _Peteeeee—“_

 _“Fine.”_ Morgan gave in, and opened her arms for him. “Here, have your damn hug.”

He smiled, and gladly hugged her, then ruffled her Peter hair when he released her. “So, you came back pretty late lat night, didn’t say much and went straight to bed — fun party?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty fun — Cindy befriended the new kid,” She ignored the pointed look that May gave her. “so she was around all night. She’s alright, I guess.”

“Mm,” May said. “and it was at Liz Allans house — Peter _likes_ her.”

Morgan felt her face redden, then. Liz was _her brothers_ crush, and May _obviously_ said that to annoy her. She shot a short glare at her aunt.

Her dad raised his eyebrows, and started the coffee machine to get himself some caffeine. “You _like_ someone? You like this _Liz Allan?_ Who is she? Is she cute? Is —“

 _“Dad.”_ Morgan groaned — _time to be a fucking great actress._ “Don’t grill me, dad — she’s just…” She tried to think of something vague and generic that she could say about Liz. “… she’s nice. And she’s pretty, and… I _don’t know, Dad —“_

“Give him a a break, Tony!” May laughed. “Let the kid breathe!”

 _“Jesus.”_ Her dad murmured, throwing his hands up in surrender, “I’m just trying to find out about my sons little girlfriend —“

_“— Not my girlfriend —“_

“— no need to be so at my throat about it!”

“Yeah, well —“ May started, but she stopped at a new voice.

“Hey, guys.”

Morgan looked up, and couldn’t help but glare a little when she saw her — _Katie fucking Reed._

 _Katie fucking Reed,_ with her stupid, plastic smile, and her stupid, over-styled hair. _Katie fucking Reed_ and her stupid hope to be _‘some sort of mother figure’_ to Morgan — who already had her mom, _and_ Aunt Ginger, _and_ Aunt May, _and_ Aunt Nat for that, thank you very much.

 _Katie fucking Reed_ and her stupid fucking existence. _Katie fucking Reed,_ and however the fuck she managed to become the _girlfriend_ of Morgans father.

 _Katie fucking Reed,_ who Morgan had known for all of twenty-four hours, and yet hated with everything that she had.

She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand to watch Katie walking over to her dad, and pulling him into a kiss. She couldn’t stand to think about the fact that Katie had come from upstairs; and so had stayed the night, likely _with her dad, in his room, doing who knows what._

Morgan wouldn’t sit here while Katie tried to insert herself into their lives.

She stood up abruptly, abandoning her cereals and rushed from the room, leaving both May and her dad to stare after her pitifully.

Morgan ran up the stairs, and slumped down against the wall when she reached the landing.

This was awful.

She texted Peter.

**_PETER:_ ** _hey pete_

 **_PETER:_ ** _morgan_

 **_PETER:_ ** _whatever_

 **_PETER:_ ** _there’s a slight possibility that imma strangle dads new gf_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i literally could not give less of a shit_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i WILL murder her in her sleep_

 **_PETER:_ ** _and that is not an exaggeration._

It only takes seven second for her brother to reply, the vibration coming from his phone that signifies a message bringing her such great relief that she almost tears up.

 _Maybe_ she does — but she won’t admit it.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _SiStEr BroTheR pErSoN_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _lmao_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _look_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _as much as i understand wanting to kill this lady thats dating my dad_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _I think that MaYbE we should consider some nonlethal ways of getting rid of her before we actually commit first degree murder_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _why_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _what did she do_

Morgan scoffed, before she replied.

**_PETER:_ ** _well_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she slept her last night_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ApPaReNtLy_

 **_PETER:_ ** _aNd_

 **_PETER:_ ** _well_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she disrupted a cute little aunt niece bonding moment that me and may were having_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so now i hate her even more than yesterdat_

 **_PETER:_ ** _*yesrerday_

 **_PETER:_ ** _*YESTERDAY HOLY FUCK THIS IS ANNOYING_

 **_PETER:_ ** _I JUST WANTED TO SAY YESTERDAY HOW FUCKING HARD IS IT_

 **_PETER:_ ** _HOLY FRICKETY FRACKETY SNICKETY SNACTITY TICK TACK FRIC FRACK FUCK_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _…u good there?_

**_PETER:_ ** _NO IM MAD AT UR DUMBASS PHONE THING FOR BEING ANNOYING AND NOT LETTING ME TYPE YESTER FUCKING DAY_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ALSO IM MAD AT KATIE FUCKING REED FOR FUCKING BEING FUCKING HERE_

 **_PETER:_ ** _AND IM ALSO MAD AT MOM AND DAD FOR SEPARATING US_

 **_PETER:_ ** _AND IM ALSO MAD AT KATIE FUCKING REED FOR BEING HERE RN_

 **_PETER:_ ** _AND IM ALSO MAD AT DAD FOR BEING IN A GODDAMNED MOTHER FUCKING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER_

 **_PETER:_ ** _AND IM ALSO ALSO MAD AT U FOR RUNNIGN OFF LAST NIGHT AND NOT TELLING ANYONE WHAT WENT DOWN_

 **_PETER: *_ ** _RUNNING_

 **_PETER:_ ** _WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE AN INABILITY TO SPELL???????_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _okay dude chill_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _im also mad at mom and dad for separating us_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and at katie fucking reed for dating dad_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and…_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _the stuff last night i_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _can’t really tell u over text_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _im sorry_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _but im not in trouble if ur worried_

**_PETER:_ ** _see this is why im mad bro_

 **_PETER:_ ** _im ur literal fucking TWIN_

 **_PETER:_ ** _u should trust me with everything_

 **_PETER:_ ** _including whatever happened when u left the party last night._

**_MORGAN:_ ** _i know_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and i am sorry_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and i trust u with literally everything_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _but hackers can see texts and shit if they try hard enough and we can’t risk it cuz this is rlly rlly rlly big and important_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _but ill tell u on tuesday_

**_PETER:_ ** _okay._

 **_PETER:_ ** _tuesday it is._

 **_PETER:_ ** _so what do u think I should do about dad and katie rn?_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _idk dude_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _ig just…_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _… try suffer through it?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _just for a lil bit_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _just until we can make a more solid better plan_

**_PETER:_ ** _k_

 **_PETER:_ ** _see u at school tmr_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ily_

 **_PETER:_ ** _:)_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _ily too :)_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _good heckin luck_

Morgan was about to reply to Peter, when a too sweet _— too fake_ — voice disrupted her. “Hey, hon, you wanna come back downstairs? Your dad and your aunt are worried about you.”

Morgan just glared at her, then spoke icily. “If my _dad and my aunt_ are worried about me than why are _you_ here?”

Katie recoiled slightly at Morgans harsh words, and sighed. “Look, kid —“

“— _don’t call me kid.”_ She seethed.

Morgan was being more aggressive than necessary, she _knew;_ she didn’t _care_ though. She could not _possibly_ care less.

“I don’t know what your problem is, with me, or whatever, but…” she sighed. “Please, just — walk me through your thought process.”

Morgan laughed, slightly hysterical. “What my problem is — _what my problem is?”_ She scoffed. “Oh, I dunno, just that it’s been _twelve years_ since dad had dated somebody, and we were absolutely fine — just me and dad and May — and now you show up saying that you hope you can become _‘some sort of mother,’”_ Morgan air quoted, and scrambled to her feet in defiance. _“_ for me… you _do realise_ I have a brain and consciousness, right? That i’m— that I’m not just gonna _forget my mom!”_

Katie blinked in surprise. _“Twelve years since your dad…”_ She muttered under her breath, then she looked up at Morgan abruptly. “You _remember_ your mother?”

“Pfft.” Morgan scoffed, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I remember my mother, she’s my — she’s my _mom!_ You can’t just — erase that! I might have been two and a half years old last time I saw her, but I remember her — I will _always_ remember my mom.”

The older woman sighed. “I’m… sorry, Pete, I just —“

“— _Peter_ —“

“— _Peter,_ sorry. I’m… I’m really sorry. I’m sorry.” She almost sounded sincere — maybe she _was_ being sincere… Morgan was shrouded in her anger at Katie Reed.

“Just… _don’t.”_ Morgan held up a hand, halting Katie. “Please don’t do that. Just leave me alone.” She stormed to Peters bedroom, her previous light, happy, _good_ mood now completely gone.

Katie didn’t even try to follow — and she was grateful for that.

**_APRIL 05, 2025, 10:49 AM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgans words — her messages — continued to nag at the back of Peters mind, as he sat in the dining room with his mom. He kept thinking about one certain message; _she disrupted a cute little aunt niece bonding moment that me and may were having._

 _S_ _he disrupted a cute little aunt niece bonding moment that me and May were having._

 _S_ _he disrupted a cute little aunt niece bonding moment that me and May were having._

Something about that sentence just seemed… _off,_ to him.

— wait —

He picked up Morgans phone so suddenly, that his movement made his mom look up in surprise, eyebrows arched.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _dude._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _don’t try lie to me okay?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _u said katie ruined an aunt niece moment that y’all had_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _does she know that ur u and not me?_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _dude answer meeeeeegegw_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _gskajgdgewoueglcjvewkhcvlusdg_

She didn’t reply, and so Peter dropped the phone in exasperation — could she not see how fucking _important_ it was that she _tell him_ if someone figured it out… and, from what she said, it seemed like someone had.

Nothing definite, obviously, but just the way she _phrased_ it was making Peter suspicious — surely if May didn’t know, she would say _aunt fake nephew bonding_ or something instead…

Maybe he was overthinking it; being paranoid — it was always best to double check, though. Peter knew that much.

His mom obviously saw his frustration — and his nervousness, and… _emotions —_ and she reached across the table to pat his hand. “You alright, Morgie?” She asked quietly.

Peter nodded, then gave a small — fake, but she didn’t need to know that — laugh. “Just — stupid group project, y’know? New school buddy isn’t replying and it’s just annoying.”

She scoffed in return, and shook her head in amusement. _“Buddy?_ Guess New York is really affecting you, huh?”

Peter froze.

 _Shit —_ that wasn’t something that his sister would ever, _ever_ say.

Oh _fuck_ he was well and fucking truly _fucked! Shit!_

He tried to laugh it off — copying his mothers movements, by scoffing and shaking his head amusedly. “Yeah, just, uh — new friends are kinda… getting in my head, y’know? Like, I’ve been around ‘em so much lately, I’ve kinda started talking like them. It’s super weird…” _He needed to convince her, he needed to convince her — how could he — that’s it._ Maddie.

He laughed softly. “God, if Maddie heard me right now, she would give me so much shi—“ She cut herself off. “—ite.”

His mom laughed, then tried — unsuccessfully — to stop. “Oh, yeah — she would absolutely _die_ if she heard you say _‘buddy’_ — I _dare_ you to call her, sometime, and be like…” She put on a very heavy New York Accent, and spoke in a very over exaggerated manner. “ _‘Oh my god, I would kill for a bagel with some schmear right now, or like… this mad good pie they have at this bodega in the city — geez, this apartment is dead-ass making me schvitz like mad, I’m gonna have to go out on the stoop if it gets any worse’ —_ let her try figure out what in the shit that means.”

Peter blinked, surprised by how… _extreme_ she went with that phrase. “Jesus, that was… _terrifying._ Never, ever, _ever_ do that again, mom. That was freaky.”

His mom rolled her eyes, grinning. She shrugged.

 _Well_ … maybe it wouldn’t hurt him to do it — convince his mom? Like, convince her more than she already had been convinced…

“Oh, what the hell. I’ll annoy Maddie. It’ll be funny.” He picked Morgans phone back up — she still hadn’t replied, and would likely be mad at him for talking to her best friend, but oh well. He called Maddie (definitely not FaceTime, he couldn’t risk that), winked at his mom, and then put the call on speaker phone.

Maddie spoke in a very similar manner to Morgan; she had a similar accent to Peters sister, too. “Morgs!” Maddie exclaimed. His mom covered her mouth to stifle her laughs across the table. “Oh my god, you haven’t called me in like, a week! I thought you’d forgotten me! Dude!”

_What would Morgan say?_

“Oh, I could ever forget you, my dearest!” Peter said, in an over dramatic voice. At the other end of the call, Maddie laughed.

“Oh, dearest!” Morgans best friend replied in the same manner. “I knew you still loved me!”

“Always and forever!”

Maddie snorted. “So, how’s New York going? Still hate it?”

“Eh, it’s been less bad this last week.” Peter relaxed, dropping his Morgan accent to make himself sound more… _New York-y._ His mom wouldn’t think anything of it if she thought that he was acting to prank Maddie. _“_ My new buddy — from the city — took me to this bodega, and we got this mad good pie… dead-ass the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Kinda annoying, though; we had to get the subway, and it was so packed, I was schvitzing my ass off. Oh! And there’s this place on thirty-second, and they have these dumb good bagels with schmear —“ That was actually _true_ , but his mother _did not_ need to know that. It would definitely blow his cover. “—when I _finally_ get mom to fly yooz guys out here, I’ll take you there, and we can like, eat it on the stoop, and —“

It was an extreme over-use of New York City slang, he knew. His mom was barely containing her laughter, and Maddie was completely silent.

“Um…” Maddie began slowly, drawing out her words. “What did you just — _god, it’s too early for this —_ what did I just hear, like… _what the shit happened to you?_ Morgan! _What? Morgan!?”_

A loud laugh sounded from his mother, and Peter looked up to see her, laughing hysterically, face red from trying to hold it in. Maddie’s breathing became less normal, and Peter couldn’t help but let out a quiet snort of laughter. “Yeah, dude, like — they have mad good bagels there, and —“

“ _Morgan_.” Maddie said abruptly, cutting him off. “Please just — _stop_ — stop talking like — like a…”

“New Yorker?” He asked teasingly, putting his Morgan voice back on.

“Hi, Maddie!” His mom cut across him, leaning toward the phone slightly. “It’s Pepper! I’ve been talking to your mom, and she said that she would let me fly you guys to come over to New York over the summer break.”

“Really?” Maddie exclaimed, very obviously excited. “Like — you’ll actually do that? That’s awesome! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing, hon.” His mom assured. “Really, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh my god, thank you _so much!_ I —“ Maddie was cut off by another woman talking, but Peter didn’t quite catch what she said. “— _yeah, mom, it’s Morgan and Pepper, they said — right, yeah, I_ — Hey, Mo?”

“Mm?”

“I gotta go talk to my mom, but i’ll talk to you later, kay?”

“Of course, yeah. That’s cool. Talk later.”

“Bye!”

There was a moments silence, before the call disconnected. Peter looked up at his mom, who had somehow managed to compose herself.

“So…” She said. “Don’t try lie to me, Morgs; what homework do you have?”

Morgan scoffed. “Just some like, chemical equations and stuff to work through — it’s not much.”

“Yeah, yeah — go get your stuff done, cause I’ve gotta go into the office for a few hours… we could do something when I get back, though? Movie night?” She smiled softly.

“Awesome!” Peter said. He stood from his chair, and gave his mom a quick hug. “I’ll be in my room… gimme a yell when you get home?”

His mom froze momentarily, and Peter furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her in confusion. “What?”

“No, it’s just — you just called here _… home —_ you’ve hated New York since the moment we got here, I didn’t… I just wasn’t expecting you to start calling it _home,_ I… _”_ His mom grinned. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

“Oh, I — I didn’t —“ Peter let out a slightly strangled laugh. “I didn’t even realise I did that, I just —“ He sighed. “School’s helped — a lot. I guess… I dunno — people and stuff; it’s helped a lot.”

She smiled at him, and stood up too, planting a gentle kiss on his temple. “I should probably get going, so get your work done!”

“Yep, I will.” He said sincerely. “Promise!”

“You better!” She laughed. She picked up some car keys, from the kitchen bench, and pointed a menacing finger at him. “If you don’t get it done, no movie night, alright?”

“Alright, yeah — I promise.”

Peters mom waved, then opened the front door of the apartment, and left — closing it behind her. He listened as her heels clicked on the floor outside, and as the elevator went down. Then, with some more strain, he listened as she got into her car, and turned on the ignition.

She left, and Peter walked to Morgans room.

He checked her phone on the way, slumping down on his sisters bed when he got there. She had _finally_ replied.

**_PETER:_ ** _… yea may knows_

 **_PETER:_ ** _prolly nat too_

 **_PETER:_ ** _its on me :)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _im sorry_

 **_PETER:_ ** _:/_

 **_PETER:_ ** _but may promised not to tell dad_

 **_PETER:_ ** _idk about nat but hopefully she won’t tell either_

 **_PETER:_ ** _cuz its kinda her fault that may knows_

 **_PETER:_ ** _they were gossiping about me acting differently apparently_

 **_PETER:_ ** _o hs h i t_

 **_PETER:_ ** _hold up this is nat now_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i gtg but ill txt u once i’ve talked to her_

 **_PETER:_ ** _iLL onLy bE a CoUpLe MiNuTeS i PrOmiSe_

 **_PETER:_ ** _bYeEeE_

Well, _shit._

_They were fucked._

May knew, Nat knew, and that meant that soon enough mom and dad would know — which would then lead to _Katie fucking Reed_ knowing… and who knew what sort of shit that would bring.

This was a complete and utter fucking _mess._

He shook that thought away, though — it took only took seven minutes of sitting at Morgans desk before he finished his chemistry homework. Then, it was another three minutes of sitting and staring blankly at the wall before Morgan texted again.

**_PETER:_ ** _hey s o_

 **_PETER:_ ** _I hAvE rEtUrNeD :)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _nat knows_

 **_PETER:_ ** _obv_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she says she knew after like,,,,,.,_

 **_PETER:_ ** _three minutes of being in my presence_

 **_PETER:_ ** _which is fun to know_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she brought it up with may and they ganged up against me_

 **_PETER:_ ** _she p r o m i s e d me that she wouldn’t tell anyone though_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so thats fun_

 **_PETER:_ ** _im still sorry tho_

 **_PETER:_ ** _also katie fucking reed 1000% hAtEs me :)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _or_

 **_PETER:_ ** _you ig_

 **_PETER:_ ** _either way our existence as a whole is greatly disliked by our fathers significant other_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i went off at her before_

 **_PETER:_ ** _:)_

 **_PETER:_ ** _i don’t like her :)_

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the messages, before he replied.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _w e l l_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _thats FuN ig_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i don’t like her either_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _even tho i haven’t met her_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _still don’t like her :)_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and ig its okay if nat and may know_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _it was kind ofi n e v i t a b l e_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _oH weLL_

Peter didn’t pay much attention to anything after that.

He took a nap. Then, he woke up, and thought about the guy with the wings, and the crazy weapons. Then, he went back to sleep.

At some point, he heard the door open, and heart his moms heartbeat. He heard her pressing a had to his forehead, pushing his (wig) hair back gently, and kissing his forehead softly.

“Goodnight, sweetie.” She whispered.

Then, she left — and Peter went back to sleep.

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 8:22 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

The first bell telling them that it was time to go to class had gone, and Peter was talking to Ned (who he kind of ran into by accident) in the hallway — dressed as himself again. He _had_ left his phone with Morgan, though, and taken hers instead — an accident, but oh well.

Morgan was somewhere, assumedly (hopefully) dressed as herself. They had first period together… but he wasn’t going to be seeing her there. He wasn’t going to first period.

Because he had some shit to sort out — that shit being the shit about the weapons and the guy with the wings.

Peter knew that it was on him to stop it.

“Peter!” Ned exclaimed, starting to walk in the direction of their first class. “Dude! Hurry up! We’ve gotta go to class!”

“I’m not going to class.” He gestured over his shoulder vaguely.

“What — where are you going?”

“Look, Ned — I figured it out, okay? There was this wing suit guy that dropped me in a lake during the party —“

“— _you got dropped in a lake?”_

“Yeah, it was not good… anyway — he stopped me from catching the weapons dealers, right? So he’s their _leader,_ he’s in charge of the operation — all I gotta do is… catch him.”

Ned stared at him, wide eyed. “But we have a Spanish quiz..”

“Ned, dude — if I bring this guy in, dad might actually let me on the team, so…”

 _“Dude —_ you wanna be a high school _drop out?”_

“No, Ned, not that — dad would kill me, gotta _‘follow the family MIT tradition’ —“_ he air-quoted. “— and all that, but..” Peter started to walk away, through the now-empty hallway. “I am going so far beyond this place today.”

He turned away, but stopped abruptly when he saw Principal Morita standing in front of him, hands on his hips. “Parker! My office.”

The principal lectured him about skipping classes for fifteen minutes or so, and then sent him to detention — which was empty except for him, Michelle, two boys from the grade above them, and a very bored looking Coach Wilson.

And, of course, the obligatory _Captain America_ PSA — which Peter knew that the other Avengers teased Steve about every chance they got. It was entertaining… until you were actually forced to watch them as some sort of punishment.

 _“So, you got dentention.”_ The Steve — fully decked in one of his old suits — on the old TV flipped around a chair, and sat on it. _“You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong, the question is; how are you going to make it right?”_

Peter sighed, and glared at the screen. This was stupid. This was so, so stupid — this video was like, ten years old, and Cap was literally terrible at following rules; as proven by literally all of his life choices.

_“Maybe you were trying to be cool. Take it from a guy who’s been frozen for sixty-five years, the only way to really be cool is to follow the rules. We all know what’s right, we all know what’s wrong —“_

He’d had enough. He stood up from his desk abruptly, grabbed his backpack, and stormed out of the classroom. Michelle watched him leave without much interest, not saying anything,

“Hey, where you going? Get back here!” Coach called after him, sounding bored — it was too late, though. He was already down the hall and on his way out — if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have even realised that Coach had said something.

On his way out, Peter lifted up a row of lockers — where he had stashed his original suit (the one not made by his dad) and a few bottles of extra web fluid, and then swung to his moms place, where his new and improved suit was.

When he reached the apartment building in Upper East Side, he went straight up to the penthouse, and ran down to Morgans personal bathroom.

Peter didn’t bother changing his clothes, rather putting his new suit on, and then putting his clothes back on top of it. It wasn’t like his hoodie and jeans was all that different to something his sister would wear, after all.

He also put his hair and face stuff on.

He couldn’t hear any heartbeats in the penthouse — so that meant that his mom was out, and Azzy wasn’t currently stopping by either. The disguise was just a precaution; in case one of them came back to the penthouse and found him.

Peter grabbed his mask from the suits hiding place, put it on, and threw himself down on Morgans chair, propping his feet up on her desk. He clicked a pen. “Hey, Karen, what’s up?”

By removing the tracker in his suit, Peter had unintentionally awakened the AI that his dad had put into the suit — he had named her Karen, after deciding that calling her _Liz_ would be… _weird._

“Hey, _Spider-Man,”_ Karen said ‘Spider-Man’ in an irritated tone, and it was evident that she was annoyed that Peter hadn’t told her his actual name — _damn his dads ability to give AI’s emotions_. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t risk it. There was a possibility of his dad watching footage from the suit, and he didn’t want that to be how he found out about Peters alter ego. “How was your Spanish quiz?”

“Listen, I was wondering if there was anyway you could connect to my drone? Get the footage that I got on Saturday night from the arms deal — so I can figure out who the guys under the bridge were.”

“I’m able to use the footage of that encounter, taken by the drone, _trial drone 13 yeet.”_ Karen said, and a video appeared in his display. “I can run facial recognition on this footage.”

The video began to play.

“Okay, the two on the right — who are they?”

“Searching law enforcement databases…” Facial recognition began to run on the zoomed in faces. “No records found for two of the individuals.”

“Nothing?”

The footage refocused, to concentrate on the man that Peter remembered as the buyer. “One individual identified. Aaron Davis; age thirty three.” His information appeared. “He has a criminal record — and an address over in Queens.”

“Well let’s pay him a visit.” Peter stood from his chair, and started to pull the clothes that he had over the suit off.

“Would you like me to activate enhanced interrogation protocol?”

Peter paused, his hoodie halfway over his head. “Uh… yeah.”

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 11:51 — BUILDING ROOF NEAR WHITEHALL TERMINAL, LOWER MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

So… his dad must have put either some sort of backup tracking device in the suit, or something to notify him of larger scale issues that Peter was involved in.

Either that, or he’d just been watching the suit footage, and seen just how badly he fucked up the ferry situation.

Really, it could be any of them — whichever one it was, though, his dad was _extremely_ mad at him; and that was without even knowing that it was _Peter_ who fucked it up, and not just some other random running around in a super suit.

Peter stared down at the water from the top of the random building that he was sitting on, and listened to the sound of his dads suit coming towards him.

_He was so fucked._

The suit hovered near him, and his dads voice started to come through it. “Previously on _Spider-Kid screws the pooch,_ I told you to stay away from this — _instead,_ you _hacked_ a multi million dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the _one thing_ I told you _not to do.”_

“Is everyone okay?” Peter was putting on an accent, obviously — so that his dad didn’t connect the dots — but his voice still came out cracked.

“No thanks to _you.”_ His dad sounded absolutely _furious._

And so was Peter.

He stood up from his spot on the edge of the building, and ripped his mask off in frustration (he was very glad that he took the precaution to look like Morgan when he got to his moms place; because now it meant that his dad wouldn’t know that it was _him.)_

Peter didn’t actually know if his dad knew what Morgan looked like, so he _might_ be accidentally outing his sister as a spider-themed vigilante when she wasn’t one, but… oh well.

“No thanks to me?” He ignored the shocked jerk that the suit gave when the mask left his face, revealing his looking like (a female person) Morgan, and started to step up to it. “Those weapons are out there and I _tried_ to tell you about them, and I _tried_ to tell you that I needed to follow up on them, but you _didn’t listen! None_ of this would’ve happened if you hand just _listened to me!”_ Peter was right in front of the suit now, glaring at the faceplate. He shook his head in anger, and the suit began to lower to the ground slightly. “If you even cared, you’d actually be here.”

The suit unfolded, to reveal his very mad father — something that Peter was _not_ expecting. At all. He stepped back in surprise as his dad stalked forward.

Peters dad sniffed, and looked at him with an expression of his that Peter knew very well; anger. “I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI, _huh?”_ The mans voice became more mad as he continued to step forward, and Peter continued to back away. “Did you know that I was the _only_ one who believed in you? _Everyone_ said that I was crazy to recruit a _probably college aged_ kid.” He scoffed. “And you're not even that — you’re a twelve year old girl.”

“I’m fourteen.” Peter glared at his father.

“No, this is where you _zip it!_ The adult is talking!” His dad yelled. “What if someone had died, huh? Different story, cause that’s on _you —_ and if _you_ died?” He lifted his arms and grimaced. “I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

Peter could feel tears prickling at his eyes now. “Yes sir, I — I —”

“Yes.”

“— I’m sorry, I —“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

“I just… I just wanted to _help,_ sir, I — I just wanted to do what _you_ do.” Which was true — his dad had inspired him to do this. Peter lowered his head to avoid his fathers angry gaze.

His dad shook his head. “And I wanted you to be better.” He looked blankly at Peter for a second, then continued in a level voice. “Okay, It’s not working out — I’m gonna need the suit back.”

Peter crumpled.

He _needed_ this suit.

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“No, sir, please, _please, I —“_ He broke off, and looked up at his dad desperately. “— I _need_ this suit, I can’t — I’m nothing without this suit!“

That was an _extreme_ exaggeration on Peters part… but he was attached now. He couldn’t go back to his old suit.

His dad had begun to grip his left arm, the way that he usually did when he was very stressed. Peter knew that this was a sign of either angina (when the heart doesn’t get enough oxygen), or a heart attack… both of which weren’t unlikely, given the fact that his dad had an entire fucking arc reactor in his chest just to keep his very weak heart alive.

“If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it. Okay?” His dad shook his head slightly, looking just over Peters shoulder to avoid direct eye contact. “God, I sound like my dad.”

 _That_ was bad. _That_ meant that this was _very_ bad — his dad saying that he was acting like Howard Stark… never went well. He was probably going to go home and freak out until Morgan got back, at which point he would pretend his problems didn’t exist and act like everything was fine.

Peter couldn’t try change that, though — because his dad couldn’t know who he really was.

“I — I don’t have any clothes.” He said finally.

His dad stared at him for a moment. “Alright, we can sort that out.”

“What — can’t I just… I dunno, go home and then drop the suit somewhere?” Peter panicked momentarily.

“No.” The older man shook his head, his tone still angry, but less so than before. “Come on, we’re going down the stairs. Put the mask back on, too. You can keep your identity intact even if you can’t have the suit.”

Peter put the mask back on, and followed his dad back down through the building, disheartened. The suit flew away by itself.

“Gotta say though,” His dad continued, as he started down the stairs, his voice softening significantly. “I was _not_ expecting you to be a girl… surprised the heck outta me, kid. Thought you would be some try hard college guy, not a thirteen —“

“— _fourteen —“_

“— year old girl.” He looked up at Peter, and he could see a frown on his fathers face. “I mean, going by the name Spider- _Man_ and having everyone think you’re a guy is a pretty smart move on your part — for your identity and all.”

“Yeah, I —“

They reached the bottom of the building, and Peter stopped talking when he saw a car that was very obviously Happys parked at the bottom of the building.

“How the _fuck_ did he get here so quick?”

Peters dad gave him a strange glance, and pulled the back door open. “Get in.”

“I don’t think I —“

“Just get in, kid. We’ll get you some clothes.”

Peter followed instructions, and sat in the car very uncomfortably. He stared out the window, his face burning up under the mask, and he could hear the irregularity of his dads heartbeat as Happy drove.

He wondered if his dad knew that Spider-Man was… well, not him, but _Morgan._ Like, if the man knew that this was what Morgan looked like.

If he did, he didn’t give Peter any sign of it.

They drove for about a block, and then pulled up next to a stand selling tourists clothes. His dad got out the car, bought something white and something pink from the stall, and then got back into the car.

“Here.” He said, handing Peter the items — a huge white t-shirt with a bus on it, and the words _‘I survived my trip to New York’,_ and pink _Hello Kitty_ pyjama pants. Typical. “Happy, stop at the next Burger King that you see on the way to… where’re you from, kid?”

Peter froze for a moment, before he answered. “Just drop me on Queens Boulevard.”

Happy exchanged a look with Peters dad in the rear view mirror, ands dad shrugged.

They stopped at a Burger King after about ten minutes. “Okay, kid — go get changed. Bring the suit back.”

Peter nodded, and rushed to the window small window that he knew would lead to the bathroom — he didn’t know what would be worse: him, a male, being in the womens bathroom, despite being dressed as a girl… or him, dressed as a girl, being in a mens bathroom.

He decided the latter would be more embarrassing.

Luckily (or not, he wasn’t quite sure), he was in the womens, so he got changed quickly, and put on the clothes his dad had given him. He left as quickly as he could, suit hidden under his shirt, and went back to Happys car — where his dad was sitting, eating a burger. Presumably a cheeseburger; a family favourite.

Peter paused before he got in, and pulled his hair out of the messy bun that it had been in at the nape of his neck, and pushed it forward, to be more in his face.

He couldn’t have Happy recognising him as Morgan… just in case his dad hadn’t figured it out yet.

Happy didn’t give him a second glance, and Peter shrunk back into the seat for the rest of the drive.

They arrived on Queens Boulevard — it was the street that May lived on — and pulled into a parking lot. Peters dad reached across him, and Peter attempted to wrap an arm around his father; attempted to embrace him.

His dads arm didn’t wrap around him, as it usually would, though. Instead, it reached for the door handle.

“That’s not a hug, I’m just grabbing the door for you.” He said bluntly. Peters cheeks reddened again. “I’m still mad at you.”

Peter nodded, rushed to get out the car, and slammed the door behind him. He stood for a moment, as Happy began to drive away, hearing the few words that the two in the car said as they left.

_“Does she look familiar to you?”_

_“She is Spider-Man… promised her I wouldn’t try figure out who she is though, so i’ll just leave it.”_

_“I don’t know, boss. She looks exactly like... never mind.”_

So, they didn’t know who he was. Well, his dad didn’t know. It seemed like Happy recognised him as Morgan (he was her uncle too, after all), but didn’t say anything — that was a comforting thought, that Happy was keeping the fact that Spider-Man was Morgan from Peters dad.

Peter glanced over to the building that May lived in, considering a visit to his aunt. He decided against it pretty quickly, though. It was only lunch time… he would sit on a rooftop and cry for a few hours instead — then he’d walk back to his mom.

He really screwed this shit up.

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 3:14 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Azmariah wasn’t back with Morgan yet, and she hadn’t called. Pepper was officially freaking out.

Midtown had finished at quarter to three, and now, half an hour later, Azzy and Morgan still weren’t back.

Morgan hadn’t been acting like herself the last few days, and Pepper had already been worried, before _this —_ her daughter was sneaking out, she was _enjoying_ New York; she seemed so unlike herself, despite being a bit _too_ herself.

And, worst of all, she was acting more and more like _Tony._

 _Tony_ , who Pepper hadn’t spoken to outside of work since 2013. _Tony,_ who she still missed so much that it physically hurt sometimes. Tony, who raised her son. _Tony,_ who she had pushed away because she loved him _so damn much,_ and she couldn’t bare to watch nearly kill himself, over and _over again._

She saw more of him in Morgan every shitting day, and it was honestly becoming _painful._ Almost as painful as the clipped conversations she and Tony had when they had the poor luck of crossing paths at work.

Not anywhere near as painful of knowing how close and yet out of reach Peter was, now that Pepper was also living in New York — nothing hurt more than that.

 _Peter._ She hadn’t seen her son since he was a toddler, and she missed him. _So, so much._

Pepper glanced at her phone again. _3:15._

It was barely a second later that Azzy called, and she answers immediately.

“Az.” She breathed. “It’s quarter past three — where _are_ you guys?”

“Pep?” Azmariahs voice came in a choked sob. “Pep, I — Morgan — she’s not — she’s not _anywhere!”_

Pepper felt the world freeze. Her breath caught, and her heart jumped. “Azzy — Az, you’re not making any sense — what do you mean, she’s not _anywhere —_ she has to be somewhere!”

Azzy sobbed. “I — Pepper I was only a few minutes late! I was here by five minutes to three, and — I’ve been waiting here since then, and I — I called her, and she didn’t reply, and I even tried — I went in to the — ask the reception, and they said — Morgan was here all day, and now she’s just —“ She sobbed again, even louder. “— _gone!”_

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

If Morgan was there all day, that meant that something happened between school ending, and Azmariah arriving at 2:55 — that was only _five minutes_ for Morgan to disappear in.

And Pepper knew her daughter;Morgan would never, ever leave without texting someone first. She would have texted one of them if she was going out with a friend after school.

“Okay. Alright.” Pepper knew her voice was breaking, but she didn’t care. “Az, I’m going to call her. I’ll call you back in a few.”

She hung up before Azmariah could reply, and called Morgan.

She could hear the buzzing of her daughters phone from where she stood in the kitchen… _shit._ Morgan must have left her phone at home today.

_Shit._

Her daughter was missing, without a phone… and the most logical conclusion was that… _shit._

The only _logical_ conclusion was… _kidnapping,_ and —

— _she had to call Tony._

_Fucking shit._

Pepper was lucky that she still _had_ Tonys personal number — she had considered deleting it _many_ times, but never had the strength to. She called it, and he picked up on the third ring.

“Stark.” She began bluntly, trying to keep the pain from her voice.

“Ah, Miss Potts — to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony replied smoothly — Jesus, Pepper missed the time _before_ everything, before 2010; before Afghanistan, and… everything.

When things were simple.

“Morgan.” Her voice shook, and then the dam broke, and she started to full on sob. “Tony, its _Morgan,_ and she’s just _gone,_ and Azzy can’t find her, and she doesn’t have her phone, and she didn’t leave school even when she was there all day, and nobody knows where she is, and —“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Pepper, calm down —“ Tony cut off her rambling. “— tell me all that _slowly_.”

She took a deep breath, and wiped the tears off of her cheeks. “My PA went to get Morgan from school, and — and she wasn’t there… and it’s been thirty minutes, and she still hasn’t shown up. She left her phone at home, and so I can’t contact her, and I — Tony, she was at school all day, and somehow she went missing in the ten minutes before Azmariah got there!”

“Missing? What d’you — what d’you _mean, Missing?_ How is she _Missing?”_

“She was —“ Pepper made a strangled sound. “— at school _all day._ And then Azzy wasn’t there until five minutes to three, and… _Shit,_ Tony, she went missing sometime between quarter two and five two!”

“Pepper, _Pepper_ — if she was at school all day, then she —“

“— I know what you’re going to say —“ Tears flowed from her eyes again, but silently this time. She held a hand over her mouth to stop the sounds from leaving her.

“— yeah, she might have been… _taken.”_ There. He’d done it. He’d fucking said those words.

_Her daughter might have been taken._

_Fucking kidnapped._

“Tony, if she — if she got… Tony, what do I _do?”_

“Yeah, I’ll —“

“— Tony, _please,_ I _need_ you to help me find her —“ The tears kept falling, and Pepper couldn’t quite stop another cry from leaving her.

“— I’m going to _find her, Pepper._ I _will_ find her, I promise —“

“— Tony, you _have to_ —”

“— I know, I know, I’ll… I’ll check back in when I know anything, Okay?”

“ _Please.”_ Pepper sobbed. “Tony, _please.”_

“It’ll be okay, Pep, I promise. I _will_ find her. Everything’s going to be _fine.”_ He paused. “I’m going to go look now, alright? I’ll find her.”

“Okay.” Pepper took another deep breath. “Okay. Thank you, Tony. Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.” Tony said finally.

Pepper hung up the phone, and slumped down against the wall. _“Shit.”_ She whispered.

Morgan was missing.

_Shit._

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 3:17 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan heard her dad picking up a phone call, and didn’t think anything of it at all.

She was sitting on the couch, playing _Among Us_ on Peters phone, but didn’t pay any attention to her father until he spoke. “Ah, Miss Potts — to what do I owe the pleasure?”

He was talking to his mom — voluntarily. Something he hadn’t done outside of the _company_ for twelve years.

Crazy shit.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Pepper, calm down — tell me all that _slowly_.”

Morgan looked up, and watched as her dad started pacing around the kitchen.

“Missing? What d’you — what d’you _mean, Missing?_ How is she _Missing?”_

Fuck — if her mom was saying someone was missing to her dad; meaning she was desperate enough to call him, which meant that it had to be _her_ that was missing… and Peter was pretending to be her. Was meant to be with their mom, so that meant that —

— _Peter was fucking missing._

And, shit, she hadn’t seen him all day, and she hadn’t even noticed. Jesus, she was a terrible sister — and _such, Peter was missing._

_Her twin brother was missing._

“Pepper, _Pepper_ — if she was at school all day, then she — yeah, she might have been… _taken.”_

Peter might have been taken.

Taken.

Taken.

_Kidnapped._

_He might have been fucking kidnapped._

“Yeah, I’ll — I’m going to _find her, Pepper._ I _will_ find her, I promise — I know, I know, I’ll… I’ll check back in when I know anything, Okay?”

Morgans brain was short-circuiting — she couldn’t make _sense_ of it, she couldn’t… _comprehend_ it.

“It’ll be okay, Pep, I promise. I _will_ find her. Everything’s going to be _fine.”_ He paused, and started chewing on his lower lip. “I’m going to go look now, alright? I’ll find her.”

Their dad _had_ to find him. He _had_ to.

“Yeah, bye.”

Morgan stood up abruptly when her dad put down the phone, and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Dad?” She asked. He ignored her, and moved toward the back garden instead. She followed him. “Dad, what _happened?”_

He looked at her, and Morgan could see the unadulterated _fear_ and _pain_ and _sorrow_ in his eyes. Her dad was close to tears. He held an arm out to her, and pulled her into a firm hug.

He rested his cheek on her head, and then let go. “Pepper Potts’ daughter is missing — and I’m going to find her.”

Morgan swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, and blinked away the tears that she felt burning in her eyes.

“Hey, hey — Pete, it’s okay…” He assured her, when he saw her horrified expression. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to find Potts Junior, it’s okay.” Her dad tapped his arc reactor twice, and an Iron Man suit began to form around him. “I’ll be back as quick as I can, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too.” She whispered after him, and, with that, he flew away.

Then, she broke down.

_Peter was missing, Peter was missing, Peter was missing, Peter was missing._

_Her brother could’ve been taken._ _Her brother could’ve been taken._

He might have been _kidnapped._

He might just be… _gone._

She looked down at his phone, which he had accidentally left with her — they’d just ended up putting all of their own stuff in each others backpacks (which were basically the same anyway), to avoid so much confusing switchy-switchy stuff, and this morning he’d forgotten to take his own phone; to return her own. She opened their conversation, and looked at the last messaged he’d sent her.

They were from before lunch.

And whether or not that was anything noteworthy, Morgan was unsure.

**_PETER:_ ** _helioooiiohohiuouoiuouio_

 **_PETER:_ ** _lol if neds mad at me pls tell him i say that im sorryryryryryyytyytutyr_

 **_PETER:_ ** _okie dokie bye bye_

And that was it. Three messages at eleven seventeen in the morning, and then nothing.

There was complete radio silence from her brother since then. No signs of life at all. Nothing.

She had no clues.

Morgan fell back onto the couch, and curled up, hugging a pillow close to her chest. She sobbed into it, her eyes burning.

Once, when Morgan was nine, she fell out of a tree that was planted in the back yard of their townhouse in Malibu. She landed on her left arm, breaking it, and got all of the air knocked out of her.

She had been unable to breathe from the lack of air in her lungs, but still attempting to sob from the pain in her arm — the result had been an attempt at heaving sobs, which she hadn’t been able to achieve, because she couldn’t breathe.

Trying to both breathe and sob for the loss of her brother felt a lot like that.

She sobbed and cried until her throat was raw and dry — until she felt she couldn’t cry anymore. Until her eyes were stinging from the amount of tears that she had shed.

Her brother might have been _kidnapped._

Peter might be _gone._

Morgan had only just found him, and she knew she could _not_ — _wouldn’t be able to —_ return to a world without her twin brother in it.

She couldn’t go back to living in a world without Peter… and she had _no idea_ what was happening to him; where he was — what she could do to _help._

It was because of her despair that she didn’t notice the new presence in the room; Morgan was only notified of it when the person spoke.

“Are you okay, Peter?”

_Katie fucking Reed._

Oh, Morgan _could not_ deal with her right now — she couldn’t _stand_ talking to (and putting up with) Katie fucking Reed right now.

After loosing her head and yelling at the woman yesterday, Morgan had stayed in Peters room until, only disrupted by her quick talk with Nat, and then, later on, May and Nat dragging her down to lunch, under the pretence of having homework. Everyone — Nat, Rhodey, Memaw, _Katie_ — was still over, because her dad had decided it was some sort of weekend-long family get together, so lunch wasn’t too awkward, and she managed to avoid talking to Katie the whole time.

After that, she retreated back to Peters bedroom, and was left in peace for about an hour and a half, before her dad came up to talk to her. It was all very general stuff — Katie must have said something about her little outburst — and basically just told her to chill a bit around his girlfriend… in a nicer, more fatherly way.

Then, there was another hour, then she said goodbye to Nat, Rhodey and Memaw, and she, May, Katie and her dad had dinner. After dinner, May went back to her apartment. 

Dinner was awkward, but Morgan managed to avoid conversing with Katie pretty easily — May was still overwhelmed by the the fact that she was _Morgan,_ not _Peter,_ and so she was _more than_ happy to concentrate on Morgan, and to keep Katie from ruining their conversation.

Morgan hadn’t seen Katie since then — and she couldn’t stand the thought of talking to Katie, _right now,_ while her _twin brother_ was _missing._

“Not really.” Morgan snapped. “Doesn’t matter though.”

Katie, with her sickly, over exaggerated sweetness, sat on the other end of the couch. She reached across, and tried to shake Morgans arm; an obvious attempt to make her uncurl from the corner of the couch that she was curled up in. Morgan didn’t budge.

“Oh, well, uh..” Katie paused. “Do you know where your father is?”

Morgan scoffed, and withdrew from her corner, so that she could glare at the woman on the other end of the couch. _“Dad_ has gone to find the _daughter_ of one Miss Pepper Potts, because _she — has gone — missing.”_ Her words her cold and deliberate, and Katie froze for a moment.

“You — you _know Pepper Potts and her daughter?”_ She asked with surprise.

Morgan rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Kinda. Doesn’t matter though, cause P — _she’s_ missing and m — _Miss Potts_ is freaking out, definitely, and now dad —“ Morgan gulped, and the tears began again.

“Holy — holy _shit!”_ Katie gave a soft laugh. “It’s true, isn’t it! All those ships and rumours — you sir, and _dating_ the _daughter of_ Pepper _Potts!_ Oh my _god!”_

Morgan stared at her, dumfounded — this _bitch_ could _not care less_ that she was here, crying and breaking down, she just — she just wanted to know if the stupid ass gossip columnists said.

And, even more than that, people _shipping her and Peter_ was many levels of fucking disgusting.

Fuck. Her.

Morgan exploded. “ _Oh my god! I’m not dating my —”_ She stood up, waving her arms around in fury, and started pacing. “Why is that — why would you _only care about that shit, Katie?_ Oh, god, I’ve been _trying_ to tolerate you — tolerate you _dating my father,_ but… _Jesus!_ You are _intolerable!_ You — I _can’t — I can’t…”_ Morgan drew in a deep breath, and stopped pacing. “Can you drive me to Mays? Or like… the train station, or something? I just… yeah. I need — I need to see May.”

Katie stood frozen while Morgan yelled, and then her whole demeanour seemed to soften. “Oh, honey, I’m — yeah, I’m sorry sweetie, lets just —“ Katie stood up, and opened her arms. “Give me a hug, then we’ll go to your aunts, okay? Yeah?”

Morgan paused, considering the offer… it was a decent one. All she had to do was hug _Katie fucking Reed,_ and then she could be with May. Alright.

She nodded, and stepped forward to Katie, letting the older woman wrap her in a hug. It was kind of weird — given that;

A) She _fucking hated_ this woman;

B) Katie was a _lot_ shorter than her, and;

C) She was _really fucking angry._

It was okay, though. Katie let her go after a second, patted her shoulder, gave a sad smile, and grabbed some keys. “Let’s go, kid.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. _“Peter.”_

Yeah. Alright. She and Katie would never get along — but maybe she could _tolerate_ Katie Reed. For her dads sake.

They drove into Queens in silence, the only sound being the soft music from the radio, and the traffic outside the car.

“Queens Boulevard, right?”

Morgan nodded — Peter had shown her photos of their aunts building, and told her the address, so she could find it easy. “Yeah, it’s uh — that one, right up there.” She pointed to the building that she knew to be the one.

“Alright — do you want me to come see your aunt with you, or should I wait down here for you, or should I —“

“Dude!” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Just drop me here and go back to dads — really. May candrop me home.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you? May and I could —“

“Katie.” Morgan cut across her dads girlfriend again. “Seriously, you’re going overboard with this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hon, I’m just —“

Jesus _fuck,_ this woman was making it _difficult_ for Morgan to try be nice.

 _“Katie!”_ She snapped. “Stop, alright! Jesus! You’re laying it on _way_ too thick!” Katie finagled slightly, and Morgan unplugged her seatbelt. “Look, I’m never going to be happy that you’re dating my dad, and that’s alright — dad likes you a lot, and so I’ll be civil for his sake. Just stop trying to be my bestie and then just going too far and asking if I’m dating Miss Potts daughter and trying to be my mom and all this _shit,_ alright? You need to chill.”

Katie nodded, becoming much more sullen. “Okay. Well, we’re here. I’ll see you later on.”

Morgan got out the car, and rolled her eyes.

She started the trek up to the seventh floor of the building.

Aunt May would help her — help her deal with the fact that _her twin brother_ was fucking _missing_.

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 3:53 PM — ROOFTOP IN SUNNYSIDE, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“So, _Spider-Man._ ” Peter froze where he sat on the rooftop. He’d tried to be productive and start walking — and he had, for a while. But then he stopped and found a rooftop to be sad on.

Because shit was kind of falling apart right now — his dad had a girlfriend, his dad took his suit, his dad yelled at him without knowing that it was _him,_ and there was the possibility that his dad and Happy recognised him as Morgan, and —

— and it was all _way too much._

And now his dad was here. Now.

_Fuck._

“Oh, uh — Mister Stark… what’re you doing here?” Peter glanced over his shoulder, to look at his dad. “Feel like yelling at me again?”

“Well, Spider-Man, I was more wanting to talk about… you — Miss Stacy.”

Peter froze. _Morgan Stacy —_ his sisters fake name. He was _fucked._

“Right.” Peter said slowly. “You wanna talk about _Morgan Stacy?”_ He shook his head, and stood up. “Sorry, man — I aint her.”

“Kid, _Morgan,_ seriously, your mom is _freaking_ out right now, you’ve been missing for hours and everyone’s worried about you.” Peters dad sighed, and stepped out of the suit again. “Look, Potts, _please_ just come — Happy’ll come out here, drive you back to Upper East Side, your mom’ll calm down, I — Kid, I’ve been looking for you for _thirty five minutes,_ we need to get you back to your mom.”

Okay, yeah, _fuck —_ he knew.

 _Well_. Peter let out a laugh.

Unless Peter wanted to accidentally throw his sister under the bus, and give away her identity of Spider-Man — which _she_ wasn’t, _Peter_ was — then he would have to let the tea spill.

It was a pretty fitting time for a dramatic reveal, really.

“I mean, I’m happy to go hang out with mom, but I’m not Morgan Potts.”

 _“Morgan.”_ Peters dad did the _dad voice —_ which he knew more than well. _“Please_ just come down and let Happy drive you home. I won’t even tell your mom about the Spider-Man stuff… that can just stay between us — and you can still come to the lab, just.. let Hap take you home.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shit, then looked up at his dad. _He was really going to do this._ “I’m _not_ Morgan Potts…” _He was gonna do it. He was gonna do it._ “I _swear_ to you — I’m not Morgan Potts, _dad_.”


	9. PART EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME TO THE NEXT CHAPTER YALL I WROTE THIS MUCH QUICKER THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD :D

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 3:54 PM — ROOFTOP IN SUNNYSIDE, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

_“Morgan.”_ Peters dad did the _dad voice —_ which he knew more than well. _“Please_ just come down and let Happy drive you home. I won’t even tell your mom about the Spider-Man stuff… that can just stay between us — and you can still come to the lab, just.. let Hap take you home.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shit, then looked up at his dad. _He was really going to do this._ “I’m _not_ Morgan Potts…” _He was gonna do it. He was gonna do it._ “I _swear_ to you — I’m not Morgan Potts, _dad_.”

His dad froze mid-step. “ _What?”_

“Yeah, I, uh…” Peter paused to take the wig off, and ran a hand through his hair so that it sat normally. “Hey, dad. Haven’t seen you since, what… twenty fifth of March or something? I dunno, it was the morning of the day you left for India.”

The older man was still frozen, though he was now, once again, gripping his left wrist tightly. “I — how — what — _what?”_

“That could mean literally any question _ever,_ dad — just be a _bit_ more specific.” Peter tried desperately to keep up a calm facade, and so basically just did as he always did; rambled. “How could mean like… how did I look like Morgan, how did I _find_ Morgan, how come I’m sitting on a roof in fucking Sunnyside right now, and what… well, what’s happening, what’re you doing — there are a lot of things you could be asking me right now… dad?”

His dad looked more and more like he’d seen a ghost every second. His voice was breathy and almost silent — if Peter didn’t have super enhanced senses, he probably wouldn’t be able to hear him. “How did you — and Morgan — where did you — _how?”_

“How and where did Morgan and I meet?” Peter pieced together what his dad was trying to say, and raised his eyebrows. “Morgan was the new kid that I had to show around after spring break — I figured out that she was Pepper Potts’ daughter after school that day, because I had a bit of a haunch… and then after I told her and showed her a picture that I found of us as toddlers, _she_ had a haunch and went through moms files and found photos of our birth and…” He laughed slightly. “Yeah. Crazy shit.”

“Fuck.” His dad whispered. “Fuck, I didn’t even — fuck.” He stumbled forward, and Peter jumped to catch him.

“Dad! Dad, are you — dad!” He shook his dad desperately, getting nothing but a bleary nod in return. “Dad, can you just — let’s just sit you up over here…” Peter manoeuvred his dad to sit against a wall, and sighed. “What the _hell_ just happened, dad? You can’t just — _shit_ , was that a heart attack? Did you faint — did you — did you — what did you — what just _happened_ , dad?”

Peter (unsurprisingly) was starting to regret his big reveal — if _this_ was his dads reaction. He hadn’t actually seen what happened when the stuff with his dads heart went too far, and so… what if it was? That was scary.

Plus, Morgan was going to fucking _murder_ him when she found out.

Honestly, Peter wasn’t quite sure why he decided to tell his dad that he was _Peter_ not _Morgan;_ that hadn’t been part of the plan, Morgan wasn’t there to break the news with him, he did it spontaneously… it was a bit of a shit show.

Still, he had a gut feeling about it — like the feeling he’d had when he met Morgan (which led to him finding his mom _and_ his long lost twin sister), and the feeling that had drawn him to become Spider-Man.

Peter trusted his instincts, and they told him to tell his dad who he was… he just hadn’t expected _this_ as a reaction.

“… dad?”

“Holy _fuck!”_ His dad muttered again, staring up at Peter with too many emotions for him to read. “You’re Morgan and you’re missing, but you’re actually _Peter,_ even though I saw Peter at home forty minutes ago, and — and you’re _Spider-Man,_ and I thought _Morgan_ was Spider-Man, but I didn’t even realise that it was _Morgan_ earlier because I haven’t seen her since 2013 — and _holy shit I didn’t fucking recognise my own fucking daughter,_ and —“ His dads head whipped up to stare at him, the man cutting off his own little freaked out ramble to speak in a slow, even quieter whisper. “— you’re Spider-Man. _My son is Spider-Man._ Holy shit — _holy shit,_ I—“

“Dad!” Peter exclaimed, crouching down next to his and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Dad, you gotta breathe — just… calm down a little bit, and then we’ll talk about all this, okay? Just _breathe.”_

His dad narrowed his eyes a bit. “How — _the fuck —_ am I meant to fucking — _breathe,_ kid, I — _this_ is why your mom didn’t want me around, Peter! _Shit!”_

Peter jumped back slightly at that — what did he mean, _‘this is why your mom didn’t want me around’?_ And he _kept_ saying _Peter._ Terrifying.

“What do you mean?” He asked, still gripping his fathers shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

His father shook his head. “The Mandarin. Christmas in 2012 — I fucked up, she got Extremis, I told her I would stop, I didn’t. We fought. She didn’t want to watch me almost kill myself over and over again, so we split up.” He sighed loudly. “And she was right — my stupid ass job somehow inspired my stupid ass son to become a fucking vigilante. _Fuck.”_

“C’mon dad, seriously, it…” Peter pulled his dad up from where he was sat on the roof. “It’s alright, seriously — we’ll just, uh… maybe we should just go home, and get mom to come over, cause Morgans already there, and then you can give —“

“— Peter James Stark, if you’re about to say that I should give your suit back —“His dad drew in a shaky breath. “— it’s a _no.”_

“But dad, surely you just —“

Peters dad seemed to stand taller (which was hard, given he was pretty short already), and held up a hand, as though to silence him. Peter noticed how _tired_ his dad looked, as the older man sighed heavily. “Pete, please, just… I can’t think about this right now — you _swapped_ with Morgan! You became a _vigilante!_ You — shit, I’ve seen the Spider-Man footage; you almost die like… _fuck, you almost die like three times a week!”_

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Kid, I’m trying not to fucking explode right now, let’s leave this until we get home.” His dad said, leaving no space for argument — his dad; the great fucking _Tony Stark,_ seemed too snap a little, though, when his phone started to ring loudly. “Fuck — it’s Katie — kid, I’m just gonna… answer this.”

_Katie fucking Reed._

Peter just nodded and rolled his eyes, then started listening in on their conversation.

“Honey, can you please, _please_ tell me what’s going on? Because Peter is freaking out, and he wanted to go to your sisters place… and I took him there, but it really just seems like he’s not okay. I’m waiting outside the building in the car for him now.” Katie Reed, as he had imagined, had an annoying, too sweet voice — she sounded like Effie Trinket.

His dad stepped away slightly, and gestured with his free hand as he spoke. “Yeah, it’s just, uh —“ He glanced back at Peter. “— just had to help Potts find her kid. You said you guys are at Mays?”

“Yes.” Katies voice was more clipped now, seemingly annoyed by the lack of detail in the explanation. “I’m waiting outside, and your son is with your sister right now.”

“Well, is he _alright?_ Did something happen?”

“Pfft.” Katie Reed snorted slightly from the other end of the call. “Found him crying a bunch, then he got really mad when I said he was dating Pepper Potts’ daughter —“ Peter shuddered at how _gross_ that was, and he saw his dad react similarly. “— and then I took him to Queens and he got mad at me for trying to help… Tony, I get that he’s not going to like me right away, but can you _please_ tell him to calm down a bit!”

Peter clenched his jaw, and he saw his dad glance back at him again, the man completely unaware of the fact that Peter could hear everything Katie was saying — ignorance _was_ bliss, after all.

“Katie, I don’t think that’s…” The man sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “Katie, he just needs time — he’s not _used_ to any women other than his aunts and Robbie and _yes,_ his _mother_ , once upon a time, being around. I never expected him to _like_ the fact that we’re dating.”

“You’re taking his side.” Katie said bluntly. “He’s been being so rude to me, Tony, these last few days, and yet you _still_ take his side.”

“He’s my _son.”_ Peters dad replied, in an almost angry whisper. “I will _always_ take his side _.”_

Katie let out an audible sigh, then spoke less harshly. “Yes. — yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m not really used to kids. I’ve never done the _‘meet the kids’_ things — especially not with teenagers.”

So — it seemed like Morgan had been making Katies life very stressful… which was helpful. Peter didn’t really like how she spoke to his dad; how _angry_ she seemed to be at Morgans mere existence.

So, he still didn’t like Katie _fucking_ Reed.

“Yeah — Katie, I’ll see you at Miss Maybelles, okay? In like thirty minutes?”

“Miss Maybelle?” Katie sounded… well, Peter wasn’t sure if _disgusted_ was the right word, but it was the first thing he connected to how she spoke. “You and your sister are weird, babe.”

 _Babe —_ ew. She just called his dad _babe._

_Disgusting._

“Yeah, yeah, occupational hazard of being a Stark by birth… yeah. Alright, I’ll see you soon-ish. Bye!”

Peter watched as his dad hung up on the phone before Katie Reed could reply, and tucked the phone back into his pocket, and then stepped close to Peter again. “Sorry about that, Katie just —“

“Dad, I heard it all.” Peter cut across his fathers words, and waved a hand next to his ear. “Enhanced hearing, man.”

 _“Enhanced hearing?_ What the — what the _fuck?”_ He shook his head. “Never mind; follow ups later on. I’m going to call Pepper, so you’re just gonna have to tell her that you’re okay.”

“Yep.” Peter nodded, with a small smile. “Easy. Call mom.”

He easily caught the way his dad froze for a moment, and the gentle smile that flickered across his face.

“What?” Peter asked, before the older man could pretend that he didn’t act strange for a moment there.

“Oh, just, uh…” his dad ducked his head for a moment, still with a soft smile on his face. “I haven’t heard you call her mom — and know who it is that you’re calling mom — since you were… two and a half. It’s nice.”

Peter grinned at his dad, then pointed in the direction of the stairwell. “I’m guessing Hap’s downstairs?”

“Hap’s downstairs.” His dad confirmed, leading the way down the stairs, through the building — for the second time that day.

Peter knew that his father was repressing a lot of emotion right now — the fact that he hadn’t started yelling like he had that morning was quite amazing, because while his dad was generally pretty level headed, Peter had a special _talent_ for making him mad. Like, yelling mad.

Peter was probably hiding a shit ton of emotions, too. Because he was about to be with his mom, dad, twin sister and his aunt, all at once; something he’d only ever let himself wish for, not having any faith that it would become a reality.

That was probably where his dad would blow up — get mad at _him_ (Morgan would probably be excluded from the anger because of the whole _‘being separated for twelve years’_ thing) for the switch, and would then be mad at him _even more_ exclusively for going behind his back to be a vigilante, and nearly get killed every night and —

— _yeah_. Despite the excitement of four of his favourite people being together again, finally, for the first time in more than a decade, it was was going to suck.

Because Morgan would kill him. Because his dad would be very, _very_ angry at him for more reasons than just swapping places with his twin sister. Because May would probably get very overwhelmingly emotional about the reunion, because she was a sap for that sort of thing. Because Peter still didn’t have a complete read on his mom, and didn’t know how she would react.

And there were so many variables and consequences that could easily affect the outcome of said ‘reunion’ — main one likely being Katie _fucking_ Reed.

He followed his dads lead, into the back seat of his uncles car. He noticed the subtle expression that Happy shot his dad in the rearview mirror, but elected to ignore it.

Maybe his dad would get Hap to come up to Mays with them — to make the whole fucking shit show easier for him to keep up to date with; because Happy had obviously known it was Morgan earlier, but now that Morgan was turning out to be Peter? _That_ would be harder to explain.

Peter stared out the window blankly as they drove away from Sunnyside, back to Forest Hills; where he had been dropped off earlier, and listened intently as his dad called his mom.

“Tony! Did you find her? Is she okay? Whats going on?” His moms frantic voice came from his dad phone, and Peter felt bad — that he’d made her worry. He hadn’t meant to forget Morgans phone.

“Yeah, it’s…” Peter felt his dads gaze flicker to him, as the man paused. “Morgan is fine. I think you should probably come to Mays, though. It’s important.”

“What do you — I’m being serious, Stark. Is Morgan okay?” His mom replied, still sounding very on edge.

“Yes, Pepper, the kid is absolutely _fine._ Here, I’ll put her on the phone.”

Peters dad passed him the phone, and Peter cleared his throat, preparing himself to speak like his sister again. “Hey, mom! I’m alright, I just… well, I think — I think that’s why Mister Stark wants you to meet us at, uh… _Mays.”_

His dad was staring at him, eyebrows raised — undoubtedly surprised at the Morgan accept — and Peter shrugged.

“You’re sure that you’re okay?” She spoke quickly, and Peter could hear lots of noise through the phone as she undoubtedly rushed to get to her car.

“I’m fine.” Peter assured her. “Just… yeah. I’m fine.”

“Morgan.” Her voice became more serious, like a warning. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Uh… I’m fine, mom. Nothing’s wrong. Oh, look at that, Mister Stark want’s the phone back.” Peter shoved the phone back to his dad frantically.

“Yeah, me again,” His dad said, as he held the phone up to his own ear. “I’ll see you at Mays, okay? She’s still in her old place — do you remember the address?”

“Of course I remember Mays address. I’ll see you and Morgan soon.” Peters moms tone changed to something he couldn’t quite place when she spoke again, after a short pause. “Will that be all, Mister Stark?”

Peter looked over at his father, to see a a small smile on the mans face. His voice was soft when he finally replied, “That will be all, Miss Potts.”

Peter felt a bit awkward in that moment; like he listened to a conversation between his parents that was _very_ person. If the expression on his dads face was anything to go by, it was some sort of inside joke thing. Something that was making his father feel nostalgia.

He heard the call disconnect, but just turned his head to stare out the window again.

“Hap.” His dad said, something surprisingly gentle in his voice. “Stop by Burger King. I need another cheeseburger — kid, you want one?”

Peter blinked, and looked away from the window again. His dad was stalling, that much was obvious… and he wasn’t going to stop it. “Yeah. Please.”

“Cool.” His dad nodded shortly. “Hogan, drive. Cheeseburgers, then a _super_ fun conversation at Mays.”

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 4:26 PM — MAY PARKERS APARTMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan took a sip of the hot cocoa that May had given her, very glad to have her binder and wig off.

May was still staring at her in amazement; probably still in shock that it was really _Morgan May_ in front of her, undoubtedly.

She was equally amazed at how cool her aunt was, as she continued explaining how she ended up _here_ to May. It had taken quite a while for her to calm down, so she was still pretty early in the story.

“Hold up,” her aunt waved one of her hands around to pause her story, gripping a coffee mug in her other hand. “So he just went and stalked you, because he had a _feeling_ about it?”

Morgan nodded, with a small shrug. May snorted. “My nephew is actually insane.”

“Yeah — yeah, he is.” Morgan agreed with a laugh. “So, anyway, he’s being all edgy and creepy, and he waits _way_ too long to explain what the fuck is happening… so, eventually, he’s like; _‘you’re Morgan Potts, I’m Peter Stark, here’s a photo I found of us and your mom when we were toddlers.’”_

“Makes sense.” May shook her head. “Tony loves those photos — of when you guys were little.”

“They’re pretty cute.” She agreed. “We looked like, _identical_ as kids, though — that’s what I was about to tell you. We went to Starbucks after school that day, so that we could… I dunno, bond or whatever, and we were trying to figure out which kid was which in the photo, and I kind of just — had an epiphany, and I was like ‘ _holy shit, we looked exactly the same as babies, I only have a mom, he only has a dad, that kid at school thought he was my brother’_ — so like, what if, y’know?”

May nodded.

“Yeah, so I went home, and I didn’t want to follow up on it, incase I was right, because that was — _is —_ terrifying, so I just did other stuff… But then I couldn’t stall any longer, so I went into moms files with all her photos of me, and one of the photos was actually a file, with pictures of us with you and dad when we were born, and… yeah. It was shocking.”

“I can imagine.” Her aunt laughed. “That would be crazy — you’re just going about your life, and this random secret kid of this psychotic little bitch called Tony Stark turns out to be your long lost brother. It’s —“

“— fucking insane.” Morgan finished. “Yeah. Then once I figured it out, I kidnapped him like he kidnapped me, and… yeah. It was pretty awkward. Then camp came around, and we made the plan — we got these fancy wigs, and everything, and —“

May paused in drinking her coffee when there was a knock at the door of the apartment, and set her coffee down on the table next to her. “I’ll be right back!” She said, before standing and answering the door.

There was a short, surprised noise, and then a moment of silence, before Morgan heard her aunt whisper, her tone shocked. _“Pepper?”_

“Hey, May.” That was her _moms_ voice. “Been a while.

Morgan blinked in surprise — her _mom_ was here.

And she wasn’t meant to be Morgan right now, she was meant to be _Peter._

And if her mom saw her, she would either freak out, or figure out that she and Peter switched. Probably both.

Logic told her that she should run to the bathroom, and put the wig and binder back on… instinct told her that it wouldn’t matter — that they would have broken the news of the switch to their parents eventually, and this was as good a time as any.

So, despite her better judgement, Morgan didn’t move, and just sat, sipping her drink, as May and her mom spoke.

“What’re you — what’re you _doing_ here?” Mays voice sounded a bit flustered.

“Tony told me to come.” Morgans mom replied. “He said he and Morgan would meet me here, and that we had to talk about something important.”

Morgan was going to break her brothers trust. She was going to break her brothers trust, and tell her mom about their switch, and he was going to be _so_ mad at her… but she was going to do it anyway.

She stood, put her drink down, and followed May in the direction of the front door. Both women seemed surprised to see her there. “Hey, mom.” She said quickly. “It’s just me and May here, and I don’t really know what’s happening, but I haven’t seen you in a while. So hi.”

“Morgan!” Her mom exclaimed, throwing herself forward and pulling Morgan into a tight embrace. “Holy _shit,_ I was so worried about you — you — you are in _so much trouble,_ miss. Where the shit were you?”

“Oh, well, I —“ Morgan froze and stopped talking when she saw Peter over her moms shoulder, dressed as himself. They made eye contact, and Peter also froze.

The first that that went through her mind was that _huh,_ it seemed like she and Peter had the same thought, confessing to their mom and dad, respectively; the gig was up. Her second thought was that _shit,_ their dad would know what was going on, but their mom had no idea — and she would freak out pretty goddamn soon, when she realised.

“Miss Potts.”

Morgan could see her father and her uncle Happy standing with Peter now. It was her dad that had spoken, and his voice had made her mom hesitantly unwrap her arms from around Morgan.

“Mister Stark?” Morgans moms reply was soft, as she turned around slowly. _“Peter?”_

“…hi.” Peter said awkwardly, giving a small, awkward wave.

“So.” Her moms shocked demeanour dropped basically immediately, switching to her business voice. “You said on the phone that we had some important business to discuss.”

“Uh, yes.” Her dad replied, uncomfortably. “We should all… get inside. Hi, May.”

“Hey, Anthony.” May said, smirking — probably just to annoy Morgans dad. Peter and Happy pushed past Morgan, her aunt and her mom to get into the apartment. May shoved a finger at Morgans dad. _“You_ have _fucked up,_ Mister.”

“I know, I know, I —“ Her dad paused, seemingly noticing Morgan. “Morgan?”

“Hi, dad.” She said quietly, waving at him like Peter had waved to their mom not long ago. “How’s it going?”

“Morgan.” He breathed again, tears coming into his eyes, his voice straining as he tried not to cry. “Can I — can I hug you?”

She nodded, and engulfed her dad in a hug. “Hey, dad.”

He ran a hand through her loose hair, and she felt him breathe out in amazement and disbelief. He held her tighter, then released her, to hold her at arms length. There were tears rolling silently down his cheeks, and he let out a laugh, half crying. “You’re so big now!” She smiled awkwardly, and pulled her closer again. “Jesus, I missed you so much, Mo.”

“I missed you so much, too, dad.” She whispered into his shoulder. “… but we should probably follow all the others. Mom has no idea what’s going on right now.”

“Yeah.” May said, as Morgan and her dad pulled apart, making them both realise that she was still there. “Pepper only just got here, a minute or so before you. Morgan didn’t manage to… tell her anything.”

“Right.” Her dad nodded. “Let’s go die."

**_APRIL 06, 2025, 4:29 PM — MAY PARKERS APARTMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter followed Happy and his mom past his dad, May and Morgan, and awkwardly went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of water. He could hear his dad, aunt and sister talking in the entryway, but elected to ignore it, and instead just concentrate on Happy and his mom — who were obviously feeling equally as awkward as he was.

“Hey, Pep.” Happy said, standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, next to the sofa. “How’ve you been, the last few days?”

“Just, uh… work and stuff.” The tension in the air was _very_ thick, and Peter was observing the conversation amusedly. “Morgan went missing today, so that was awful, but it seems that you and Tony found her.”

“Yeah, about that —“ Peter started, drawing the attention of both his mom and Happy toward him, before they were interrupted by his dad.

“Hey, everyone, it’s super fun conversation time!” The man exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Lets all, uh… sit on the couches. Yeah. Everyone sit.”

His dad slumped down on one of Mays couches; the blue one. Morgan sat down on the white sofa hesitantly, picking up a mug of what Peter guessed would be Mays iconic hot cocoa — also known as the only thing that their aunt could actually make without burning it or poisoning it or something like that.

Peter moved to sit next to his sister, as May sat next to their dad, and their mom settled on the third couch. Happy remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Alrighty.” Peters dad said, unnecessarily upbeat for someone that had;

A) just reunited with his ex, after twelve years;

B) found out that his two children had found each other, and then switched places, and;

C) found out that his son was a vigilante.

Peter was very surprised by how well he was taking it.

“So, Pepper, good to see you again,” The man continued, “it seems as though our children have outsmarted us.”

Peter watched as his mom processed this — he saw the wheels turning in her brain, and could pinpoint the exact moment that she realised that he and Morgan _knew._ He saw her face contort strangely, and then soften with so much overwhelming _love_ when she looked across at Peter and Morgan.

He saw tears come into her eyes, which he undoubtedly wouldn’t see without his enhanced eyesight and senses. She let out a small, barely audible sob as she began to smile tearily. “You found out,” She whispered, “You found out, and you’re here together, and —“ She cut herself off with a strangled sound.

Peter felt a bit bad, with how wreaked his mom looked, but accidentally found himself seeing a very similar expression on his dads face when he tried to avoid her gaze.

He hadn’t seen his dad look that awful in a long time — not since he got sick from the spider bite, and was sick for days. During that time, his dad had stayed by his bedside, gripping his hand desperately. His memories from that time were vague, but he could still picture his dads tearstained face; the large bags beneath his eyes, the pain written into every feature, the _desperation._

He looked quite like that now, but much more real, with slightly smaller bags under his eyes — not much smaller, though.

Peter felt _so_ guilty, being the reason that his parents both looked so upset — and, glancing across at Morgan, he could see that she did too.

Beneath it, he could see the joy on both his parents faces — blinding joy and overwhelming love and affection.

“Yeah…” Morgan started, and Peter glanced up in surprise at the fact that she actually said something — something that he was honestly not up to. “Yeah, we figured it out.”

“My question,” Their dad said, voice steady and normal, despite his expression. “is _how?_ How, did you _find_ each other.”

“Yeah, that a pretty fun story,” Morgan laughed uncomfortably, and Peter felt obliged to save his sister. “which I _really_ wanna tell, because —“

“— we met at school.” Peter cut in, hearing a small relieved sigh from Morgan as he did so. He looked over to his dad. “Remember that new kid that I had to show around after spring break?” His dad nodded in understanding. “Yeah, well, turns out that new kid was Morgan, and… I dunno, she was following me around all day —“

“ _— hey!”_ She slapped his arm.

 _“Because_ she had to, because protocols and shit, and I… I had a feeling that there was something off about her, so I —“

“— he _stalked_ me.” His sister cut across him, making him roll his eyes. “And figured out who mom is when he found photos of us when we were little, and… well, we were looking at the photos after school the next day, and I thought we looked weirdly alike, so I went though _moms_ files and found pictures from when we were born.”

“That’s the long story short.” Peter said, trying not to think about (or try understand) how much his parents were visibly relaxing.

“Tony, they found out.” His mom whispered. “Jesus fuck!”

“Yeah…” His dad replied, staring between him and Morgan, and his mom, perplexed. “Yeah, Jesus — they found out.”

“We found out.” Morgan nodded. “And we kinda did another thing too…”

Their dad rolled his eyes in slight irritation. “Yeah, Pep, they swapped lives.” He snapped. “They _swapped_ on us, Potts! They — it was _Pete_ that was missing, not Morgan, and _Morgan_ that was with me over the weekend, and that met Katie, and —“

“Katie?”

Peters gaze whipped up, to see his mom staring at his dad in confusion, and heard Morgan doing the same. This was not going to be fun… probably quite the opposite, really.

“Who’s Katie?” Peter could tell that she was trying to sound genuinely interested, rather than… _was that jealousy?_

Huh. _Interesting…_

“Oh, Katie’s, uh…” Peters dad stumbled over his words, making Peter raise his eyebrows, unimpressed.

May snorted. _“Katie_ is Mister Anthony Edwards current girlfriend.”

His mom blinked in surprise. “Girlfriend, wow. I was _not_ expecting that — she met _Morgan?”_

“Well, she met _Peter…”_ his dad tried. “But I guess Morgan was Peter, so sort of. I don’t know, Pepper — she thinks she met Peter; she did meet Peter, but Morgan met her, not Peter… that make sense? Anyone?”

“Yeah.” Morgan and Peter said at the same time. Peter glanced at his sister, amused, and saw her do the same.

Speaking in sync without meaning to — perks of having a twin, it seemed. Peter had always thought that was just a thing in movies, but apparently not.

“Sounds… like it’s getting pretty serious…” Peter saw the way that his mom avoided eye contact with his dad, instead looking slightly over his shoulder. “If she’s at the ‘meeting Peter’ stage.”

Yeah, she was definitely jealous… so apparently she _didn’t_ hate him.

Which was… _interesting,_ to say the least.

Peters dad shrugged, and spoke in a tone that sounded somewhere between denial and embarrassment. “Yeah, we’re… she met everyone on the weekend — Rhodey and Nat and Hap and Robbie and everyone.”

“She did.” Happy agreed, now sitting on the couch next to May — _when did he move?_ “Natasha and I only got into three fights, and she did _not_ seem impressed.”

“It was a new record.” May added with a soft laugh. “I was honestly shocked.”

Peter felt his sister stiffen uncomfortably next to him, and gave her a brief, slightly concerned look. “She didn’t seem all that happy about all the… war-like shit that was going down on Saturday.”

“Well, she’s very…” His dad hesitated in his Katie defence. “I dunno — she’s very _particular —_ doesn’t like conflict.”

Morgan scoffed beside him, and their dad shot her a questioning stare. Morgan let out a small laugh. “It’s just — she’s only got like, three moods: _trying to be my bestie_ Katie, _trying to be my mom_ Katie, and _being mad that I don’t like her_ Katie.”

“It’s a bit of a weird new dynamic, yes —” He gestured around the six of them vaguely. “— especially now. With all this stuff going down.”

“Mmhmm.” May said, eyebrows slightly raised. “Can’t wait until she finds out about this. It’ll be hilarious.”

“She is _not_ finding out about this.” Peters mom insisted, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms. “She _cannot_ find out about Morgan.”

 _“_ Technically —” Morgan countered. “— and I’m totally playing devils advocate here — she already _does_ know about me, just… in a different way, I guess.”

“Ignoring Katie Reeds entire existence, though,” Peter cut in, before anyone else could speak. “What do we do now? Where do we go from here?”

Because that was really the big question — _what now?_

They couldn’t go back to living completely separately; because now that they had given up the charade, Peter knew that their parents wouldn’t be able to seperate them again — but would they really go half half with each parent, like most people with split parents did? And if they did that… why hadn’t their dumbass parents just done that in the beginning?

“While that _is_ a good point,” His mom stared at him, her gaze burning with love and amazement… but also confusion and concern. “I want to know where the _hell_ you were — because _Morgan_ was with your father, so it’s _you_ that disappeared for no reason.”

Morgan turned on her end of the couch to stare him down with an identical expression to their mother on her face. “Actually, yeah. I wanna know that, too — because you _scared_ the _shit_ out of me, _Peter!”_

He winced. “Yeah, about that —“

“Kid, you should honestly just tell them.” His dad interrupted, resting his Ching on his clasped hands, and glancing around at everyone, before his gaze came to rest on Peter. “You’re grounded, by the way. But Pepper’s your mother, and if I know then she should too, and we’re all going to need to be in on this if we don’t want you to spontaneously die —“ His mom looked up, alarmed, but his dad continued. “— and _don’t_ you _dare_ try deny it, because believe it or not, I’ve been following your tracks, and I — shit, kid, you get almost killed, like, _regularly!”_

“No, no, dad, I — I don’t get almost killed _regularly!_ I get hurt a lot, but I can — I can _heal_ now, so it’s never that bad, and —“

“— _Dude!”_ Morgan interrupted. “Literally the first week I knew you, you said you were recovering from a _gunshot wound!_ How is that not _almost dying?”_

“You got shot?” Their mom cried out, almost in a hysterical manner. “How did — _what the fuck?”_

“Pete, explain.”

Peter rolled his eyes at his fathers insistence, but started explaining anyway — though doing so very hesitantly. “It started in January, I guess… dad remember that field trip to OsCorp that I forgot to tell you about and so forged your fake signature on the permission slip so that I could go?”

The way that his father stared at him, and blinked extremely slowly, seemed angry — like, the way he was _blinking_ seemed angry. Peter ignored it though, and kept going.

“Well, yeah. I went on it a little bit illegally — and I’m sorry about that, dad, I really am… anyway, I came home, and I felt really sick, because I got bitten by a spider in one of their labs, so I went to bed… and _then_ I just didn’t get back up, for like three days, and I was like, eighty percent sure that I was dying, but you thought I had the flu? I mean, I’m pretty sure I remember you freaking out, but I just had flu symptoms and everyone told you that I had flu, and not to worry about it, and — yeah?”

“I remember — you getting _sick,_ not you _sneaking_ on a field trip, to _OsCorp,_ of all places.”

“Yep — so, basically, when I woke up fully, I could see super well, and all my senses were just… dialled up to eleven. And I could stick to things, which was super weird.”

Peter saw all the colour drain from his sister face, when she undoubtedly figured it out. “Oh, shit.” She whispered. “Oh, _shit.”_

“So, there I was, with all these new powers, and —“ He slumped forward, curling in on himself slightly, and sighed. He glanced at May for a moment, and then averted his gaze to stare at his hands, trying to stop tears from spilling from his eyes. “— and I just couldn’t stop thinking about _Uncle Ben._ And how if I’d — if I’d _had_ these abilities back then… I could have _stopped it —_ and then — and then — and then I was thinking about _Uncle Rhodey,_ and what happened with his legs in Germany at that airport, and — and about dad, and how I never knew if he was going to come home — and that even though dad and Rhodeys situations were way out of my hands, I could have _saved Ben_ if I had these abilities back then, and —“

Peter cut himself off with a soft sob, and felt Morgans hand reach over and rest on his shoulder gently. “Peter, you —“

He shook his head, making he stop her interruption. “— I realised that even though I couldn’t save him, I could save other people. I could stop other people from going through what we went through when he died, and I…” He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “I just thought that… If I can do the things that I can now, but I _don’t,_ and _then_ the bad things happen? They happen because of me.”

Everyone had gone silent, and he realised that all eyes were on _him._ Feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention, Peter rushed to finish. “So… _yeah_. I became Spider-Man—” and, because he had absolutely no social skills, and was probable the most awkward person in the world, he finger gunned, and added, “Yeet.”

 _“Yeet.”_ Morgan whispered in response. “Yeet, indeed. Very fucking yeet indeed, Peter, what the _fuck!?”_

“I, uh… _Say_ _Colorado!”_

“I’M A GIRAFFE!” Morgan exclaimed, earning very strange (and concerned) looks from everyone around them. She sobered immediately at the glances, but Peter remained frozen in place, still awkwardly holding up finger guns.

“Peter…” His mom whispered, so quiet that Peter could barely hear her — he doubted that the others could. “ _Please_ tell me you aren’t actually a vigilante.”

“I am.” He ducked his head. “I’m sorry, mom… but it has _nothing_ to do with dad — I mean, he didn’t even know, and… dad, you’re really mad at me for this right? Right. So, mom, you don’t need to be mad at him — because this is all on me, and —“

“— Peter, baby, it’s fine.” She sighed. “I’m not mad at your father. And I’m — I’m not mad at you, either. Shocked? One hundred percent. Worried? More than you could possibly imagine. Proud? Surprisingly, yes. But not mad. _Never_ mad.”

Peter looked up in shock at that — his mom, for some strange reason, that he didn’tunderstand… was _proud_ of him.

Despite this being the first time in twelve years that she was seeing him — as himself, that was, rather than being dressed as his sister — and somehow she was proud of him.

That made him so extremely happy, that he couldn’t even begin to express it.

_His mom was proud of him!_

His dad scoffed. “She might not be mad at you, kid — but _I_ sure as hell am!”

_Oh shit._

**_APRIL 07, 2025, 8:27 AM — MAY PARKERS APARTMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

The compromise made last night was that Morgan, Peter, and their parents stay at Mays, and that she and her brother stay home from school, for… _further discussion_ on the matter of their little swapping stunt.

Happy had gone back to his own home, which… yeah. Hap deserved a break from their family shit.

So, they stayed at Mays — the only thing that needed figuring out being sleeping arrangements. Since Peters room at Mays apartment was once (a long, long time ago) her room too, she slept on the top bunk, with some spare blankets that May found. Her mom, the only one without a room already, slept on one of the couches.

Peter had woken up a few minutes ago, but Morgan was pretty sure he hadn’t realised that she was awake too.

 _“Peter!”_ She whispered, leaning over the edge of the top bunk so that her brother could see her face. “ Can you chuck me my phone, bro?”

Peter blinked up at her in surprise, only just realising that she was awake. He shook his head. “I don’t have it — that’s — that’s how we ended up here. I left it in your room.”

“Nah, dude.” She shook her head. “We ended up here because your stupid ass became Spider-Man, freaked mom out by being out _being_ Spider-Man, and then managed to out your identity to dad.”

“Hey!” He defended, moving his head across to the edge of the bed, so that she could see him better. “I wasn’t out being Spider-Man, I was crying on a roof!”

“Wow, cause that is _so_ different!”

“It _is!_ Because dad took away my suit, and that’s why I was walking home — to your home — to moms. You get what I’m trying to say.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Morgan moved down from the top bunk tiredly, and throw herself onto the bottom bunk next to her twin brother. “Still mad about the phone, by the way.”

“Sorry.” He muttered. Peter sat up kind of abruptly, and stared toward the door of the room blankly. _“Caffeine.”_

“Yes, caffeine exists.” Morgan said, still tired despite having been awake for the better part of the hour. “Where’s it kept?”

Peter didn’t reply, just gestured for her to follow him, and then…

 _And then_ he flipped over the edge of the bed, landed on the _roof,_ and then walked out of the room… _on the roof._

“What the fuck?” Morgan whispered to herself as she stared after him. After a moment, once she’d gotten over the initial shock (when she remembered that her brother was _Spider-Man, shit_ ), she got out of the bed, and followed Peter.

But on the floor, like a normal human being, because she wasn’t some fucking _Spider ass weirdo_ like Peter.

 _Fuck,_ that would _never_ be normal.

Her _twin brother_ was actually _Spider-Man._ What the _fuck._

Morgan found Peter in the kitchen, tapping a coffee machine in an almost trance-like state.

“Hey, Mo.” He said, now talking quite normally, albeit a bit tiredly. “How do you like your coffee?”

“Latte?” She asked, sitting down on one of the stools that was next to the kitchen bench. “One sugar.”

“Huh — were you drinking that when you were staying with dad?” Peter turned around and leant across the counter, eyebrows raised.

“…yeah?” She said the word more like a question — because she didn’t get why that was relevant. To anything.

Peter snorted, and ducked his head in laughter. “Honestly, I’m surprised dad didn’t figure it out just from that — it’s not black.”

“You drink _black coffee? HOW?_ ” Morgan raised her eyebrows sceptically. Because _what the fuck?_

“Skill.” Peter said nonchalantly, turning back around to get his mug from the machine, and put a second on. He tapped a couple of buttons, setting something, obviously, then leant back down on the counter. “Also addiction, I guess. Plus, dad raised me, and it’s literally common knowledge — to the general public, even — that caffeine is basically running through his veins at this point. He made me the first coffee I ever drank, and it was black, and…” He shrugged, and took a long drink from his mug. “I dunno. Just kept drinking it. It’s actually pretty good — wanna try some?”

He held the cup out to her, and Morgan flinched away in disgust. “No. Dude, that’s — that’s — ew. I’m very good, thanks. I’m fine. I literally never want to drink that shit, ever.”

Peter shrugged again, and set his cup down. “Your loss. It tastes great.”

“It smells like death, Pete. _Death.”_

“It _smells_ like the _only_ thing keeping me awake, at any given time.” He rolled his eyes, and grabbed the second mug from the coffee machine. “Here, have your frothy milk.” He passed it to her, grimacing at it.

“It’s not _frothy milk.”_ She retorted. “Its coffee that doesn’t get permanently stuck in your bloodstream when you drink it.” Morgan took a long drink of her coffee, and glared at her brother. “Mmm, look at that! It’s not in my bloodstream!”

“Shut up, Morgan — it takes _strength_ to drink this. You couldn’t do it if you tried.”

“Are you challenging me? Because I swear to god, man, I’ll drink all of it just to piss you off, cause you —” Morgan trailed off at a tired groan coming from the living room, noticing the way Peter stared in the direction of the sound, one eyebrow raised.

She turned around on her stool, to see her moms hair — uncharacteristically messy — poking up from the couch. Her face, flustered and tired looking, followed soon after.

Morgan saw her mom freeze when she noticed Morgan and Peter in the kitchen — she didn’t move for a solid minute, just staring at them, her jaw slightly dropped. Then, she shook her head, looking away from them in confusion.

“Shit, I must’ve had one too many drinks last night.” Morgan heard her mom mumble, flattening her fringe with her hand, then pushing her hair back and tying it in a low pony tail. “Morgan, honey, can you grab me some water?” She held a hand to her forehead, and groaned. “And some Advil?”

“Uhhh…” Morgan glanced at her brother awkwardly. “Water and Advil?”

Peter nodded, grabbing a packet of Advil, and filling a glass with water, passing the latter to Morgan. They walked over to the couch.

Her mom was too busy muttering to herself on the couch to notice Morgan and Peters presence next to her — Morgan holding the glass of water, and Peter the half empty packet of Advil.

“Mom?” Morgan said quietly, holding the glass out to her mother. “Here’s the water.”

“Thanks, hon.” Her mom said, sitting up and taking the glass. She took a long drink. “Advil?”

“Oh, uh — yeah, here.” Peter held out the packet of Advil.

And their mother _screamed._

The scream caused their dad to come barrelling out of his room, Iron Man suit half formed around him, with a worried look in his eyes. May also appeared, walking from her bedroom groggily, wrapped in a fluffy dark blue dressing gown. Morgans moms eyes widened, and she stared back at Peter, taking the Advil from him hesitantly.”What did I — holy _shit,_ I didn’t dream that, did I? Peters actually —“

Peter nodded, and tears came into their moms eyes. “Oh, give me a hug, baby.” She cried, standing and wrapping her arms around Peter. Morgan stood awkwardly to the side as her mother held her brother close. “You’re actually _here!_ Morgan, get your ass in here!”

Morgan grinned, and her moms second arm wrapped around her, holding them both close — making it honestly hard to breathe.

“Mom, that’s — can’t — breathe —” Morgan managed to get out, with her limited oxygen supply. “— please — release —”

Their mom let go — neither she nor her brother mentioning the tears still running down the woman’s cheeks.

“Yeah, uh… hey, Potts.” Their dad said awkwardly, the suit retreating from around him. He made his way to the kitchen — going immediately to the coffee machine, and putting a cup on. “Took me a moment to remember when I woke up, too. This is some _crazy_ shit.” Morgan noticed that his eyes were glassy (like, from _tears_ ) as well. Because, beside popular opinion, Tony Stark had both a heart, _and_ emotions. Morgan understood that well now, after living with him since Thursday.

Their mom nodded blankly, and Morgan quickly grabbed her and Peters mugs from the kitchen bench, then settled down next to her brother on one of Mays mismatched couches; a patterned orange one.

 _“So.”_ May said, sitting on the blue couch. “Now that the issue of ‘ _Peter the psychopath is Spider-Man and we’re keeping him away from the suit and stuff for a couple weeks, just while things settle down’…_ what now?”

“Thats — yeah. That’s the next thing we need to think about, I guess.” Their dad avoided eye contact with their mom, choosing instead to stare down into his coffee mug. “We… _we_ are in dire need of a much better custody agreement.”

“Yes.” Peter agreed bluntly, shifting slightly beside Morgan. She spared him a glance, to see a blank ‘media expression’ on his face. “Because I think we can all agree that this — this arrangement fucking _sucks.”_

“It does fucking suck.” It was her dad that spoke, and when Morgan looked up, she saw that he was staring at her sadly, very clearing pretending that his eyes weren’t filled with tears. His gaze shifted, to look blearily at her mom. “Pep, they’re so… they’re so _big_ now! Why — _why did we do this?”_

Morgan looked over at her mother, and saw that she had buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. She looked up, her face tearstained and her eyes reddened. “We are such shit parents, Tony. We shouldn’t have done this.” She spoke quietly, her voice breaking. “We — we missed out on their _entire lives.”_

“No, no, no!” Morgan exclaimed, rushing to her moms defence.

“No you’re not!” Peter insisted at the same time. They both froze, and Peter nodded to her pointedly — telling her that she could speak first. Morgan smiled at him in thanks.

“You’re not bad parents.” She said. “You — what you did sucks, yeah, and we all missed out _a lot,_ but… you’re not bad parents. You’re awesome, most of the time, there’s just that — just that small little detail that you guys fucked up on.”

“Oh _god.”_ Her mom whispered. “I’m so sorry, this — this is all my fault!”

“Pepper —“

“No, Tony, it _is!”_ Her mom insisted, looking at Morgan and Peter in horror. “I thought — I fucked it up, I —“

“ _Pepper.”_ Her dad interrupted. “We _both_ fucked up, but now… now we’re all here, and I’m sure that the kids don’t really wanna listed to us argue about who’s fault this is.”

“Yeah, we really don’t” Peter said. Morgan could see that he’d almost finished his coffee — _Jesus,_ how could he stand to drink that shit? It was disgusting!

May laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m not one of the _kids —_ I’m older than both of you anyway — but _I_ don’t want to hear this shit either. You _both_ fucked up; we literally _all_ agreed on it.”

“Wow so we made terrible parenting decisions and _nobody_ pulled us up on it. What the hell, May?” Their dad glared at his sister.

“Well, you were both super _super_ sensitive at the time, and — Tony, you were falling apart! I wasn’t about to have that argument with you when you were so _broken.”_ Morgan sunk into the couch as her aunt spoke. “That’s not the _point_ though! The _point_ is that y’all need to figure out how you’re gonna split time with Morgan and Peter, and decide what the _fuck_ to do about Katie fucking Reed!”

“Hey!” Peter leant over and whispered in Morgans ear, smirking. “She calls her _Katie fucking Reed_ too!”

Morgan snorted with laughter, covering it up with an awkward cough. “Sorry. Uh… tiredness.”

She ignored the looks that her parents and her aunt gave her at that answer. And the fact that her brother was laughing silently next to her.

And then, within a fraction of a second, her moms guilt was covered by her business demeanour. “Okay.” She breathed, before speaking quite professionally. “Okay. I have spare bedrooms at my new place, and I _know_ you have spare rooms too — so, we split it half-half. Week at yours, week at mine… and then, if either of us have to go on business trips or — or _missions,_ they just go to the others’ house.”

“That… seems reasonable.” Her dad replied easily, nodding decidedly, and quite clearly trying to hide a smile, then, he looked at Morgan and her brother. “Is that okay with you guys?”

“That’s great!” Morgan and Peter exclaimed, at the same time. Morgan had always assumed that speaking at the same time was something that movies made twins do to accentuate the fact that they were twins. _Or_ what seven year old girls do when trying to make people _think_ that they were twins, when they were really just best friends.

She had totally never done that with Maddie. Not _at all._

Morgan and Peter weren’t doing it _intentionally,_ though. It was just sort of… accidental. Some sort of natural thing that they’d just started doing without thinking about.

It was fucking trippy. And _very_ weird.

“… what about Katie?” Peter asked quietly.

Their dad seemed to freeze for a moment, then snapped out of it. “That — that’s up to you guys. Whatever you’re all comfortable with.”

“I don’t mind.” Morgan said — once again, at the same time as her twin brother. They both rolled their eyes.

“Pep?” Their father asked, eyebrows raised.

Their mom clenched her jaw slightly, her mouth set in a line. “How serious is it?”

“What?”

“How serious is it?” She repeated. “Like, can you see her becoming a… _permanent_ part of their lives?”

Their father hesitated for a second, before he answered. “I mean — yes. That was — that was the plan. That’s why Pete — Morgan — Morgan _dressed_ as Peter — met her.”

Everyone sat in an awkward, tense silence for a minute or so. Morgan could see the barely readable emotions flitting across her moms face — _maybe_ a bit of hurt, _possibly_ a tiny touch of disbelief — it was hard to tell, with the combination of the speed they were crossing her face at, and the media mask that had slipped on without much thought.

Morgan felt bad.

Then, the minute ended, and her mom relaxed significantly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Okay.” She said steadily, making eye contact with Morgans dad. “If it’s becoming that serious between you and Katie Reed, then they can both meet her.”

Disbelief filled her dads features. “Really?”

“Really.” Her mom confirmed. “They can stay at yours this week. You’ll just need to set something up for Morgs. I way as well come — get stuff for Peter’s room at my apartment.”

“Okay!” Their dad grinned. “Get dressed! We need to buy someshit!”

**_APRIL 07, 2025, 11:42 AM — IKEA STORE, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Dad, seriously, stop doing that.” Peter insisted — he was _sick_ of the ongoing Baseball talk. “I’m going to go crazy.”

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ Pete.” His dad rolled his eyes, and kept pushing the weird IKEA shopping cart thing, “But _Steven Jefferson_ — who _I_ am, by the way — is a _huge_ Yankees fan, and talks about it with his fifteen year old son.”

“You’re going over the top,” He smirked. “I will actually eat _all_ of the IKEA meatballs — and you _know_ that I can! I’m a teenage boy, _and_ I have an enhanced metabolism.”

“Fun fact, Steven Jefferson is a vegetarian.” Peter snorted, and his dad glared at him. “Your mother, _Susan_ Jefferson, is the one who eats meat. You and your younger sister Morgan take after your mother, and both eat meat.”

“If you keep saying your cover story so loudly you’re gonna get caught out.”

“I’ll have you know I am _very_ good at being undercover.” Peters dad leant on the cart heavily, and shot him a look telling him to _shut up._ “How else do you think your identity remains intact?”

“Because you’re good at improvising. That is literally it.”

“Please, god, help me.” Peter whispered. “Save me from this very cruel plane of existence.”

“ _Hey —”_ His dad exclaimed, whacking him lightly with a rolled up IKEA magazine. “Son’t do that. You have to set a good example for your little sister.”

Peter laughed. “I can’t believe I’m the oldest! I’m going to hold this against her _forever!”_

“Be nice to your sister, young man.” The older man said, using an over done ‘military dad’ voice. Peter scoffed at his antics.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Peter stared at his dad over dramatically. “Are you a hippie, _‘save the animals’_ , vegetarian, environmentalist sort of dad, or a _‘don’t say that, young man’_ , _‘do what your mother tells you’,_ army sort of dad.”

“I’m both.” His dad replied nonchalantly. “I’m in… _law enforcement —“_

“— you’re an _Avenger_ , so that’s _kind_ of true, but —“

“— I’m a cop. So I’m not an _army_ dad. I’m a _cop_ dad. And so I’m both disciplinary _and_ vegetarian environmentalist.” He laughed quietly, “I’m not like normal dads. I’m a _cool_ dad.”

“ _Why_ did I let you watch that with me and Cindy?” Peter muttered, staring at the ground. Then, he looked back up at his dads disguise. “Loving the beanie, by the way. And the blind old dude glasses — really completes the whole… _demeanour._ ”

“Thanks kid!” His dad wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and ruffling his hair — which Peter did _not_ like. “And, thanks for the wig. For letting your mom use it.”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ll all match now — a whole family of brunette people!”

“Yes.” His father laughed loudly. “They get mothers and daughters matching hair styles.”

“Bet Morgan’s loving that — where are they, by the way?” Peter glanced around. “They left to grab that big box thing for the bed frame like, twenty minutes ago… _surely_ it doesn’t take that long to pick up a box.”

“They got lost in Narnia.” His dad rolled his eyes again. “Come on, where’s that…bookcase thing that we found for you?”

“BRIMNES? I think it said it was in row twenty two?”

 _“Yo!”_ Peter turned, to see his (now brunette, curly haired, fringe-less) mom and his _younger_ (hehe) sister struggling to drag a huge box onto another shopping cart, like the one that his father was pushing. “Muscle man! Come carry this box for us, bro!”

“On it!” He exclaimed. “Be right back, Jefferson!”

“Yeah, yeah, have fun carrying around boxes for the ladies indefinitely!”

“I will!” Peter laughed, running across to Morgan and his mom. _“Byeeee!”_

 _“Crazy child.”_ He heard his dad muttering, as he rushed across the warehouse-like area where all the boxes of not yet assembled furniture was kept.

“Crazy father!” Peter yelled across the room, earning a half amused, half unimpressed wave from his dad. “Okay, move over. I’ve got the box.”

Morgan and his mom both dropped their hold on the box, but Peter managed to catch it easily before it hit the floor — courtesy of super strength, and… _reflexes —_ He moved it into the trolley easily, earning an eye roll from his sister. “Show off.” Morgan muttered.

“Oh, go on Mo. Try beat that.” Peter challenged.

Morgan squared up, and wiggled her eyebrows amusedly. “Go on, give me something to lift. It’s on.”

“Morgan, _no.”_ Their mom said, sounding worried.

“Morgan, _yes.”_ Morgan replied quickly,

“Morgan, maybe not.” Peter said, making her glare at him. “What? I’m just saying — I have, like… _powers_ and shit.”

“Yeah, and IKEA boxes are made for normal, average people to be able to pick up, _without_ having fucking _super strength.”_

“Yeah, but most people _don’t_ carry them alone,” Peter countered, not wanting his sister to… like, somehow get squished by something or… whatever. “Don’t like… try lift it alone.”

“Oh, shut up.” She groaned, crossing her arms in irritation. “I will still _beat_ your ass in stress paintings ducks.”

Peter shook his head, looking at Morgan with raised eyebrows. “Oh, now _you_ are on.” He smirked. “But I bet you thirty bucks that I can stress paint better ducks than you — _without_ turning myself into Susan Murphy.”

“Go pick up more boxes, man. We don’t need you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHaNkYou i WiLL tRy Be SpEeDy SpEeD fOr PaRt NiNe :))
> 
> also im sorry about how i left the end of last capter that was mean and i wont do that again because im a nice kind person :)


	10. PART NINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM LATE TO update (again) because of ✨writing block✨ and also my phone decided to commit ✨die✨
> 
> but! theres some less annyoying stuff too! basically i am going to be doing some very ✨intense✨ editing for my main series thing because i went back through it and it all feels very choppy... and then the next parts of that series will exist :)
> 
> ALSO i was rlly bored the other day so i was watching some movies and now i want to write a 'just go with it' AU so thats a fun thing thatll eventually happen

**_APRIL 07, 2025, 1:07 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter was honestly surprised by how well his parents were taking the entire situation.

He had expected his parents to react with anger and irritation, and making them go back to how it was _before_ he re-met Morgan. Instead, his parents were acting like old friends, — which they kind of were — shopping and sorting out custody and letting him and Morgan actually live _together,_ just at one house one week, the other house the next.

Like normal people. Like normal split siblings who’s parents were on good terms.

It was great! It was really, really great.

But, it was a bit problematic when his father was a stubborn engineer who thought he could assemble furniture without the instructions, his mother was an extremely organised and put-together businesswoman who seemed about to throw the former out the window at his stupidity, and they were trying to put together an IKEA bed together.

So, he and his sister were just calmly putting together the desk, watching with amusement (and, admittedly, _fear_ ), as their mom and dad argued about the construction of the bed.

“Look, I’m telling you, Potts — this weird screw thingy is meant to hold the _runner,_ not the actual _drawer!”_

“With all due respect, Mister Stark —“

“— Miss Potts —“

“— we would actually _know_ where your ‘weird screw thingy’ was meant to go if you hadn’t thrown the instructions out of the window.”

“Pepper —“

“ _Tony —“_

Peter snorted quietly in laughter as his parents kept arguing, and turned his attention back to the desk draw that he was making. He leant over to whisper to his sister. “How long do you reckon it’ll be before they realise that we went down and got all the instructions?”

She laughed, and rolled her eyes. “At _least_ an hour.”

“I reckon an hour and twenty.”

“Your on.” Morgan said quietly, holding her hand out to him to solidify it. “Five bucks says that I’m right.”

“I’ll take that action.” Peter smirked, shaking her hand. “I’ll be five dollars richer in eighty minutes.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him as they stopped shaking hands. “I think you mean poorer.”

“I definitely mean richer, Mo. I don’t lose.” He said the words with a tone of finality; his sister didn’t try shoot back an argument. “Surely you put some music on.”

“Oh, I will.” Morgan gave him a devilish grin, then started playing something on her phone —

— _oh shit._

_Hamilton._

“Theres nothing rich folks love more,” Morgan started singing along, still looking at him evilly — which she was. She was evil. This would be stuck in his head _forever. “_ Than going downtown and suing it with the poor — they pull up in their carriages and gawk, at the students in the common just to watch them talk! Take Philip Schuyler, the man is loaded,”

Peter glared at Morgan, but joined despite himself, so they were singing together. “Uh oh, but little does he know that his daughters, Peggy, Angelica, Eliza, sneak into the city just to watch all the guys at — work! Work!”

Morgan grinned, “Angelica!”

“Work! Work!”

“Eliza!” Peter glared at her, and she poked her tongue out at him teasingly.

“And Peggy!” She said, trying not to laugh. Peter glared even more — this wasn’t fair! It was impossible not to sing to _The Schuyler Sisters!_

 _“Work! Work!_ — The Schuyler sisters!” They sang together again… actually, singing Hamilton with another person was actually a good thing, because you could split the parts.

Morgan was Angelica now, it seemed; he was Eliza, and they were both Peggy.

“Angelica!”

“Peggy!”

“Eliza!”

_“Work!”_

“Daddy said to be home by sundown!” They said together, along with the music on Morgans phone. Peter finished assembling his drawer, and started to put together the leg of the desk that the drawers were meant to go in.

“Daddy doesn’t need to know!” Morgan sang, perfectly content that the fact that he was going to get killed by the need to sing this song. Evil sister.

“Daddy said not to go downtown!” They said together, then Morgans voice dropped away, and he sang the Eliza part alone, “Like I said, you’re free to go!”

“But — look around, look around, the Revolutions happening in New York!”

“New York!”

“Angelica!”

_“Work!”_

_Then,_ Peter was saved by a sound — a heartbeat, and a tinny clang of metal on metal that sounded like keys. He kept singing his parts, obviously, and putting together his part of the table… but he was focusing on the new sounds.

Because Katie fucking Reed was in his house.

“Eliza, I’m looking for a mind at work! _Work!_ I’m looking for a mind at work! _Work!_ I’m looking for a mind at work! _Work!_ Whoaaaaaaa! Whoaaa! — _Work!”_

“Woo!” Peter started singing Burr’s part on autopilot, still listening to Katie — she was making herself a hot drink downstairs. “There’s nothing like summer in the city — someone in a rush, next to someone looking pretty —“

He heard Katie take a loud sip of the drink. “— Excuse me, Miss, I know its not funny, but your perfume smells like your daddy’s got money! Why you slumming in the city in your fancy heels?” Katies footsteps started to come up the stairs. “You looking for an urchin who can give you ideals?”

“Burr, you disgust me!”

“Ah, so you’ve _discussed_ me! I’m a trust fund, baby, you can trust me!"

Peter had trouble keeping the panic he was feeling at the fact that his dads girlfriend was waling up the stairs while Morgan and his mom were here, and let his sister sing for a moment as he tuned back in on his parents argument.

“— _told_ you, Pepper! That one _can’t_ go there, because it’ll stop the drawer from opening!”

“Well, we wouldn’t have _made_ that mistake if you hadn’t _thrown_ the instructions _out the fucking window!”_

“I did that to prove that I don’t need the instructions, because I’m a fucking _Engineer_ and I’m smarter than whoever makes the dumb IKEA instructions!”

“Nobody asked you to _prove_ that your smarter than IKEA, Stark! Everyone already knows it, because you don’t _shut up about it,_ and —“

Peter wasn’t sure if their continual fighting was a good thing or not (because maybe that was just their natural dynamic, or like… flirty teasing or something?), but Katie was getting closer every second. She would be in the room that now belonged to Morgan any second… and everything was chaos.

Peter kept a straight face, and started putting the runners in the part of the table leg that the drawers were going to go in.

“Cause I’ve been reading common sense by Thomas Paine —” Morgan was still singing the song; and Peter was still doing so with his sister.

“— Look around, look around —”

“— So men say that I’m intense or I’m insane —“

“— The Revolution’s happening in —”

“— You want a Revolution? I want a revelation! —”

“— New York! Look around, look around, the revolution's happening — in New York! —”

“— So listen to my declaration; We hold these —”

_“Tony?”_

_Shit._

Everyone froze for a second at Katie Reed talking loudly in the hallway; Morgan stopped singing, their parents stopped arguing, everybody stopped building — the only sound (that Peter was pretty sure everyone else could hear; he could hear literally everything happening in a three block radius) was The Schuyler Sisters playing on Morgans phone, and Katies calls, which were getting closer to the room every second.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having people over? I could’ve brought some food or coffees, or —” Katie turned into the room, and stopped talking when she saw Peter, Morgan and their mom.

Well, _this_ was going to be a _joy_ to explain.

Peter hadn’t actually _met_ Katie; he knew it was her, because he’d heard her voice when his dad was talking to her on the phone yesterday afternoon, and Morgan had sent some of FRIDAYs footage of Katie over the weekend, so he knew what she looked like.

But this was his first time hearing and seeing her in person — his first time being in her _presence._

He didn’t like it very much.

She was… she was pretty normal looking — kind of short (especially compared to his mom), dark, short brown hair… very pointed eyebrows (because he knew shit about eyebrows now, after doing his every day while dressed as Morgan, and should tell that hers were _too_ arched), and _very_ red lipstick.

The main thing that he noticed that (in relation to _looks_ ), she was basically the opposite of his mother.

Which didn’t really mean anything, Peter supposed… it was just interesting to take note of the differences.

Katies mouth was opening and closing, and she seemed unable to form words. Peter was just glad that she hadn’t dropped the mug with hot liquid — _Tea? Coffee? —_ that she was holding. She pointed at Peter and Morgans mom with her free hand, and then at Morgan, and then Peter. And then started waving her hand aimlessly between them like they were some sort of fucking dot-to-dot.

“What?” Peter asked blandly, at the expression on her face. His dad shot him a slightly desperate glare. He was _begging_ Peter to be nice.

“I — uh — _What?”_ Katie asked, her gaze still flickering between Peter, Morgan and their mom. “You’re — _Pepper Potts_ is here, and — _who —_ who’re _you?_ And — Peter why are you — why _aren’t_ you at _school? What_ is _happening?”_

 _“Oh,_ uh — hey, hon. _”_ Peters dad stood up quickly, and wrapped one of his arms around Katies waist, giving her a quick kiss.

Peter _did not_ like this. He was _many_ levels of uncomfortable right now. _So, so uncomfortable._

He glanced at his sister, and he could tell that she was also _very_ uncomfortable… about their dad and _Katie._

“So, uh —“ Katie was still looking between them all confusedly. “— _what?_ Why — why’re there _two of them?”_

“Oh, yes!” Their father said, a little bit awkwardly. He glanced at Peters mom, who nodded, and then smiled at Katie. “Miss Pepper Potts.” He gestured to Peters mom, then to Morgan, “Morgan May, and, of course,” He gestured to Peter, “The one and only — Mister _Peter James Stark!”_

“Yeah, I… know who… Peter is…” Her eyed were still flickering around their faces frantically. “So, uh… why — why is _Pepper Potts_ here… building _IKEA furniture_ with you and Pete… who should —“

“— Peter.” Morgan said abruptly. Peter looked over at his sister before she could wipe the defiant expression off her face, and replace it with pure _panic._ “Oh, shit.” She whispered.

“ _Morgan.”_ Peter whispered under his breath. He looked up, and saw Katie staring at Morgan with wide eyes.

 _Tense_. It was all _extremely_ tense. Their dad laughed, sounding a bit nervous. “Yeah, that’s, uh — Maguna and Pete are… related.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Katie snapped, shooting a glare at Peters dad, before moving to stare between him and his sister again. “They look _exactly_ the fucking same, and _she_ just did the same thing the _he_ has been saying to me since basically the second I met him.”

“Yeah, uhh —“

“— Morgan is my twin sister.” Peter cut his dad off, giving him a shot look, saying _‘I got this one’._ His dad nodded. “I only met her, like, a three weeks ago.”

“How —”

“She moved across to New York from Malibu like, two-ish months ago, and… well, we met at school, and we figured it out in like, two days, and… here we are.”

“Yeah, that still doesn’t explain this, Pete —“

“— _Peter_.” Morgan cut off. She groaned when she realised what she’d done again.

“It doesn’t explain _that_ shit, kid! Why’s she like — taking your line?” Katie snapped.

“Because that _isn’t_ my line, Katie.”Peter said. “We haven’t actually met before now, man. That was… _Morgan.”_

_“What?”_

“Yeah, uh — we swapped, so she was with dad, and I was with mom… so… yeah.”

Katie swallowed, and nodded slightly. She tensed. “Okay, well… alright. That’s a bit intense, but… alright. I can deal with that. But — that doesn’t explain why _the_ Pepper Potts is here!”

“Oh!” Morgan said brightly, taking over from Peter in explaining to Katie. “She’s our mom!”

Katie froze in hesitation. Peter groaned, and leant over to whisper in Morgans ear. _“Were we meant to say that to her?”_

“I dunno, but it’s too late now.” Morgan whispered in reply. Peter shrugged.

Katie was still frozen, obviously trying to sort through emotions without showing it. Katie hadn’t grown up around fame, obviously. Never learned to keep her face void of emotion, like he had.

Like he knew that Morgan had. Like his dad and his aunt May had. Like his mom had leaned to, after gaining fame through her position at Stark Industries.

Katie hadn’t learned how to do that, and so Peter could read every _single_ thought that crossed through her mind, and every emotion that she felt. He could see the confusion, then the surprise, then the confusion again. He could tell that Katie was internally fingerling about the fact that _Pepper Potts_ was sitting there, but he could also tell that she was feeling some insecurity and jealousy at the fact that the mother of her boyfriends children was _the_ Pepper Potts.

Peter was good at reading people; he saw it all.

But that meant that he saw the anger that flickered through Katies face for a split second. It meant that he sae the momentary _hate_ that entered Katies expression when her gaze landed on his mom.

He didn’t _like that._ He didn’t _like_ that Katie seemed to be mad that his mom was _his mom._

“That can’t, um — why are they... _here,_ then?”

Peter watched out of the corner of his eye as his mother stood up, and held her hand out to Katie’s — a handshake. Seemingly a peace offering of some sort. “Hi, I’m Pepper, which you already know... it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reed.”

Katie shook back a bit over-enthusiastically. “Oh — just Katie is fine, Miss Potts —“

“Pepper.”

“— Pepper. It’s great to meet you too... I, uh —“

Needless to say, Peters mom was definitely good at her job as CEO — if her business demeanour was anything to go by. “You have questions, I’m sure. To put it simply, Mister Stark and I were... together, between 2010 and 2013, and when we separated Morgan and Peter stayed with only one of us — I am well aware that this was a terrible parenting decision, so please, just... let’s not dwell on that right now. Our children outsmarted us, we found out, and now we’re just trying to... rebuild burnt bridges, as it were. Making up for twelve years of the kids not knowing each other, and… yeah. Fixing our mistakes.”

Peters dad smiled at his mom, while Katie stared between the two in disbelief, her eyes occasionally wandering to Peter and Morgan.

He finished putting in the runners, and started putting the drawers in where they were meant to be. Morgan had almost finished putting together the bookshelf-slash-shelf leg of the desk — so they would just have to put the two legs where she wanted the desk, then put the table top on. Easy peasy.

“— free to join us if you want, honey — we’re _bonding_ and all anyway; good chance for you to actually meet the kids, as themselves.” His dad was saying, arm still wrapped around Katie.

“Yeah, that sounds… like an interesting experience. I’m happy to help.” Katie replied, sounding lightly strained — Peter had to suppress a laugh at how uncomfortable she sounded.

“Awesome, and — are you okay with Pep staying for dinner?”

“No, Tony, you don’t have to —“

“— No, _Pepper,_ we haven’t had dinner together with the kids since 2013, so if its okay with Katie…”

“It’s fine with me!”

“Then you have to stay for dinner with us. I’m making la mia famosa carbonara.”

_[(I’m making my famous carbonara.)]_

“Oh, god — Tony, you _know_ you can’t cook to save your life!”

 _“No,_ la sua carbonara è _molto buona.”_ Peter interrupted. “Era la ricetta di Nonnas.”

_[(No, his carbonara is very good. It was Nonnas recipe.)]_

His mom raised her eyebrows. “Sorry, I think I just hallucinated — did our son just call your cooking _amazing?_ Are we forgetting the plane omelette of 2011?”

“We were too young to remember that, mom.” Morgan rolled her eyes, making Peter laugh quietly.

“Anthony Edward Stark, if you poison me, our children and your _girlfriend_ with your cooking, it is _completely_ on _you_.”

“I’m not going to _poison_ everyone, _Virginia —_ I’m not a bad cook anymore!”

Their parents continued to bicker, Katie staying quite quiet (which was out of character, from what he’d heard about her from Morgan).

Hamilton was still playing on his sisters phone.

“Hey, Morgs?” He asked, making Morgan look up at him from her part of the desk building with raised eyebrows. He grinned. “If you play _Farmer Refuted,_ I’ll be Samuel Seabury.”

Morgan smirked, and started playing the song.

Peter grinned. “Hear ye, hear ye! My name is Samuel Seabury, and I present _‘Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the Continental Congress!’_ — Heed not the rabble who _scream_ ‘revolution’, they have not your interest at heart!”

“Oh my god, tear this dude apart!” His sister cut in, trying badly to do a Mulligan impression.

“Chaos and bloodshed,” He continued. “Are not a solution! Don’t let them lead you astray. This congress does not speak for me —“

“— Let him be.”

“They’re playing a dangerous game. I _pray_ the King shows you his mercy — for shame, for shame!”

“Yo!” Morgan began. “He’d have you all unravel at the —”

“Heed not the rabble —”

 _“—_ sound of screams, but the — _”_

 _“—_ who _scream_ — _”_

“— Revolution is coming —”

“— Revolution, they —”

“— the have-nots are gonna —”

“— have not your —”

“— win this!”

“— Interests at heart!”

“It’s hard to listen to you with a straight face! Chaos and bloodshed already haunt us —”

 _“— chaos_ and bloodshed are not a — _”_

“— honestly, you shouldn’t even talk —“

“— Solution!“

“— and what about Boston? Look at the cost, n’ all that we’ve lost and you talk —“

“— don’t let them lead you astray —“

“— about Congress?”

“— this Congress does not speak doe me —”

“My dog speaks more eloquently!’

“— they’re playing a dangerous game”

“But strangely, your mange is the same!”

“— I pray the king shows you his mercy —”

“Is he in Jersey?”

“— for _shame!”_

_“For the Revolution!”_

“For shame!”

“For the Revolution!”

“Is this normal?” Peter heard Katie whisper to his parents, as he and Morgan kept singing (badly) along with _Farmer Refuted_.

“It is for Morgan.” His mom said noncommittally. “She watched it back in Malibu with her friend and became obsessed — first thing that we did in New York was go see it.”

“It’s normal for Pete too.” His dad agreed. “It’s constant — and then he doesn’t listen to it for a few days, and you think that you’re off the hook, and then… _Boom!_ Hamilton’s back!”

“ _Jesus.”_ Katie whispered, making Peter laugh in the middle of his line.

“Eh, you get used to it.” His dad said in passing. “It’s just how they are — wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Neither.” His mom whispered.

Peter grinned, and started putting together his sisters new chair, because he had finished the drawers part of her desk.

**_APRIL 07, 2025, 6:46 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“I came as soon as I heard!”

“Angelicaa —“

“— All the way from London? _Damn!”_

“Angelica, thank god, someone who understands what I’m struggling here to do —“

“I’m not here for you! I know my sister like I know my own mind, you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind! I love my sister more than anything in this life, I will choose her happiness over mine every time! Put what we had aside, I’m standing at her side! You could never be _satisfied,_ god, I hope you’re _satisfieeeed!”_

“That’s enough of that, thanks.” Katie turned off the music, and put Morgans phone down on the newly-built dresser. “Tony finished making dinner, so I hope y’all are hungry.”

“I’m always hungry.” Peter said, making Morgan roll her eyes. He looked up with his eyebrows furrowed, then shook his head. “Azzy’s at the door.”

Morgan looked up at her brother abruptly. “Azzy’s here?” She asked. “Like _my_ Azzy — like, moms assistant, my fake aunt sometimes when we get food, crazy Azzy?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “She —“ He glanced at Katie, who was watching him with raised eyebrows, then turned back to Morgan. “I think she’s having dinner with us, too.”

“Awesome!” She jumped up — off her new bed — and held out a hand to her her brother stand firm where he was sitting on the floor. He gladly took it, pulling himself up with the help of her hand.

They started towards the door, but Katie blocked it, looking confused. “Wait, wait wait — who is ‘Azzy’? _Why_ is she having dinner with us? Isn’t one dinner guest enough?”

“Azzy is like moms equivalent of Happy.” Peter explained. “Well… she’s kind of like a second Happy, but with the opposite personality of Happy. She’s moms personal assistant, and she’s awesome.” He ginned.

“If she’s just an assistant, why is she having dinner with us?”

Morgan rolled her eyes — the _audacity!_ “Look, man, Az is really cool, and she’s worked for mom long enough to warrant her meeting and knowing _me_ — which, I’ll have you know, is pretty damn exclusive, because mom is _very_ particular about who meets me, because she’s _very_ over protective… And if Azzy knows me, she’s gotta meet Pete — especially cause she’s gonna have to put up with him every other week, and —“

 _“Morgan.”_ Her brother said through gritted teeth, elbowing her lightly. “I think she gets it.”

“Yeah, I _do_ get it. Thanks, Peter.” Katie said, a bit patronisingly. She leant on the doorframe in a way that was similar to how Natasha did, but less… less nice. “You know, I have _never,_ in all forty six years of my life, met two people that _talk_ about their _kids_ so much.”

Okay, that was _very rude._ She needed to —

Morgan huffed in anger, crossing her arms. “Well, comes with it just being mom and I for twelve years, and it was just dad and Peter for twelve years — they don’t have much else to talk about.”

 _“Especially_ when they’re trying to catch each other up on our lives, after twelve years apart.” Peter added coldly.

“Hmm.” Katie attempted to look down on them — despite being shorted than both Morgan, _and_ Peter (who Morgan was a _little_ bit taller than). “Well, food is downstairs. Come.”

Katie walked away, and Morgan rolled her eyes once the older (horible) woman was out of earshot. “Fucking bitch.” She muttered. “I swear, _every_ time that I think she might be kind of _okay —_ she pulls some shit like _that!”_

 _“Well,”_ Peter gave an uncomfortable nod. “I’ve known her approximately five hours ago, and… yeah. _No thanks.”_

“I agree, sister!” Morgan exclaimed, a bit snappily.

 _“Dude.”_ Peter complained. “Don’t call me sister; I’m your _brother._ Your brother, _not_ your _sister_.”

“Mmkay girl.”

“Oh, shut up, _Linetti.”_ Peter rolled his eyes at her, and she poked her tongue out in response. “Guess we gotta go get this shit over with, huh? Let’s go die!”

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “The death is awaiting us! At least Azzy’ll be there.”

“Mm!” Peter snapped in agreement. “Convo buffer!”

“My thoughts exactly.” Morgan smirked at her brother, then started making her way down to the dining room.

They were there in a minute — their parents sitting at opposite ends on the table, with Azmariah on their moms right, and Katie on their dads left; leaving one side of the table for her and Peter.

Morgan sat next to her mom, offering Azzy a quick smile as she did so, and her brother sat down next to her — giving Katie an uncomfortable, forced looking, half smile. Morgan felt _very_ bad for his brothers current predicament. At least she got to be across from Azzy (her bro), and not Katie (who was a pain in _all_ of their asses).

Except for Morgans dad, it seemed. He seemed to like her a _lot._

The carbonara was sitting in the centre of the table, surrounded by a plate of salad, and a dish full of garlic bread — the classic easy fix. There was a jug of water, and a bottle of cheap lookingwine that could only be explained by Azzys presence at the meal; she alway brought the cheapest wine she could possibly fine when she was invited to dinners. Morgans mom found it endearing; she wasn’t sure how her dad would react to it — but she was almost _certain_ that Katie fucking Reed would _despise_ it… she just didn’t seem the kind to _enjoy_ the _‘goon sack’_ (Azzys words) that Azzy somehow found at the _‘bottle-o’_ , as she would say.

“Alright!” Their dad exclaimed. “Dig in!”

Everyone started to plate up the food, then Katie clasped her hands, elbows leaning on the table, chin rising on them. She cleared her throat, and looked over at Azmariah with her general, sickly-sweet smile. Azzy smiled back forcedly, looking _very_ awkward.

“So!” Katie said, after clearing her throat. “I hear that you’re Miss Potts personal assistant, Miss…”

“Oh! Williams. Azmariah Williams.” Azzy said, taking a large bite of the carbonara. “Shit, Tony, this is fucking great! Where the hell’d you learn to make this?” She said through a mouthful of it, she sat up straighter at a pointed look from Morgans mom. “Sorry, Pep, I — you _know_ that I —“

“Yes, yes, we know.” Morgan waved a hand dismissively. “You swear a lot. We get it — mom, there’s no way that we can stop her now. She’s a lost cause.”

“Morgan!” Azzy fake gasped. “I thought I trained you better than this!”

“It was _mom_ that trained me, Az, not you.”

“So, uh… where are you from, Miss Williams?” Katie attempted at conversation again.

“Oh, just Azzy is fine. Or Az. Whatever you want.” She smiled awkwardly again. “Uh, I’m from Brisbane. Kingscliff — just down the road from Brisbane, really. Only an hour or so’s drive away. About forty minutes down from the Gold Coast.”

“Oh, the Gold Coast? Florida!” Katie gave a fake sounding, airy laugh. “Your accent doesn’t sound Floridian.”

Morgan looked down, and laugh under her breath, and saw Peter holding a hand over his mouth and looking away, trying to hold back laughter too.

Azmariah looked _very_ offended. “That’s because I’m not from Florida, _mate_. The Gold Coast? Brisbane? — That’s in _Queensland,_ mate. Stra- _ya_ mate.”

Katie looked taken aback, and blinked in surprise. “Australia! Wow, that’s… very far.” Katie was clearly not enjoying being around Azzy.

“Yeah,” Morgans dad cut in, smiling. “Bet you’ve seen some cool stuff over there. Nice beaches?”

 _“Very_ nice beaches.” Azzy agreed, nodding. “Yeah, nice beaches, nice weather, cool people that actually understand what I’m saying when I talk — like little Mozzie here, for example; been teaching her to talk like a normal person since she was seven damn years old.”

“Az, you _know_ that I’m just teasing you!”

Azzy raised an eyebrow. “Alrighty — oi cunt, I was smashing a duzza outside woolies the other arvo, and the trolley guy was like ‘sgoin on mate’, and I was like ‘fuck off’, and then my mate was like if we’re going on a Maccas run, can we pick up some more curries and some chips from the servo? And d’ya reckon we could chuck a uey and get some grog from the bottle-o?”

Morgan cleared her throat, and translated for her very confused dad, brother… and Katie. “Hey friend, I was smoking a cigarette quickly outside of the supermarket the other afternoon, and the employee that collects the shopping carts said ‘what’s happening, bro’, and so I replied, ‘go away’, and then my friend said, if we are going to McDonalds, can we stop on the way to purchase more cigarettes and some crisps from the service station, and make a U-turn, so that we can get some alcohol from the bottle shop.”

Azzy clapped, and her mom laughed. “And?” Azzy added.

“ _And_ while that is a phrase that most true blue Aussie legends can understand, general conversation is usually a lot less packed with slang. Say any random sentence with confidence, and it sounds like an actual saying.”

“Jump off a cliff and call me ScoMo, that’s not good.” Azzy said.

“Just a random sentence that you made up — it’s basically just a long way to say ‘that’s bad’” She said, grinning even more at the scared look on Katies face.

“Viola.” Azzy said, grinning. “I have trained you well.”

“Yeah, she knows _three_ languages now.” Her mom said, laughing. Her dad grinned at that.

“Three?” He asked. “English, Australian — what’s the third?”

“Italian.” Morgans mom said, which made her dad grin. “Yeah, you — and May, I guess — had already started teaching them, before.. you know, _everything_ happened, so I kept it up.”

“Thank you.” Her dad murmured.

“Well _actually —_ “ Peter interrupted. “— she knows _four_ now.”

_“What?”_

“Она выучила русский язык после того, как узнала, что я знаю это.” Peter shrugged.

_[(She learnt Russian after she found out that I knew it.)]_

“Oh, yes.” Their dad said blandly. “The classic, ‘my personal assistant turned out to be a murderous ex-assasian turned SHIELD agent, found out about my children, and then decided to start teaching my son her first language after we moved to New York, so I had to learn it to figure out what the shit she was saying to my three-year-old.’ That was a _wonderful_ experience.”

“So… _what_ did he say?”

“He _said,”_ Morgan shot back, swallowing her mouthful of salad quickly. “That I learnt Russian after I found out that he knew it.”

“Oh."

“Yeah.” She said, leaning back in her chair slightly. “Не то чтобы я ненавижу тебя или что-то в этом роде, но ты меня очень раздражаешь.”

_[(Not that I hate you or anything, but you're really annoying me.)]_

“Пожалуйста, Морган, просто постарайся быть милой с моей девушкой.” Her dad muttered, so that just she and Peter could hear him loud enough to understand.

_[(Please, Morgan, just try be nice to my girlfriend. )]_

“Папа, она просто говорит, что Кэти кажется немного —” Peter tried to save her, but she cut her brother off.

_[(Dad, she's just saying that Katie seems a bit —)]_

“Извини, папа. Мы можем поговорить об этом позже. После того, как она уйдет.” Morgan interrupted.

_[(Sorry, dad. We can talk about this later on. After she leaves.)]_

“Хорошо.” Their father said with a soft sigh. “Пожалуйста, просто попробуй.”

_[(Okay. Please, just try.)]_

“Мы будем. Извини, папа.” Morgan said, at the same time as her brother said the same thing.

_[(We will. Sorry, Dad.)]_

Okay — even weirder shit. It seemed as though they had unintentionally learned to speak _Russian_ synchronised, too.

Well… they only had to finish suffering through this dinner, now. It couldn’t be _that_ bad.

**_APRIL 08, 2025, 1:34 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“So now what?” Peter looked up from his sisters table, that he was staring at blankly, when his sister spoke.

“Hm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow to see Morgan painting lines of blues and green onto a small canvas — yeah. She really did paint in the middle of the night when she was emotional.

“Now what do we do? Dad really likes Katie — like, a _lot,_ mom is _clearly_ uncomfortable with her, and just like… those two together was just _super_ awkward, and —“ Morgan groaned quietly (because their dad would _freak_ if he knew that they were both awake right now). “I don’t _like_ her, Peter, and I — I just have a _really_ bad feeling about her — I don’t — I dunno. I just —“

Peter sighed. “I get you.”

The rest of dinner had been _awful._ He and Morgan had awkwardly made their way through the rest of the meal, probably trying a _tiny bit_ too hard not to be rude to her… then they’d had a _very_ fun conversation with their dad where he basically just tried to reason that Katie was a nice woman, and that even though she _wasn’t_ their mom, they should at least _try_ to _‘build a relationship’_ with her.

But Peter had a bad feeling about her, too. She… she made his sixth sense go off.

“You _do?”_ Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows in what seemed like genuine surprise, before she kept rambling. “Like… I thought I might’ve been overreacting, and just, like — I thought that I was, like, buying into the stereotypical, like, ‘evil girlfriend of the dad’ thing, like… like it’s rude of me to stereotype her, and —“

“— _Morgan.”_ Peter interrupted calmly, turning Morgans new swivelchair around so that he was facing her completely. _“Dude._ Trust me — I have a literal sixth sense, so I can like… sense danger, and like — I can actually _feel_ that she’s bad news.”

“Really?” She asked sceptically. “I call bullshit.”

“I’m not bullshitting you!”

“You’re bullshitting me!” Morgan rolled her eyes, clearly not believing what he was saying.

“No, trust me dude — okay, watch this, alright?” He swivelled around, so that he couldn’t see her. “I can’t see you — at all, now, so… so just throw something at me, don’t give me warning — just throw something.”

“Mmkay.” She said.

Peter waited in anticipation for something to come in his direction. After a minute, he could sense something flying towards his head, and so he ducked, and grabbed it before it could fully pass him. He turned around, and Morgan stared at him with something akin to shock on her face.

“Huh.” She murmured. “So you can actually sense potential dangers. That’s… that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it is pretty cool.” He smirked. “It’s helpful when you’re trying to avoid guns. And knives, and… yeah. All that shit.”

Morgan glared at him slightly, looking a bit worried — a bit scared, maybe. “Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, _Peter!”_ She whispered, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead with her hand. “Peter, you can’t just — dude, _most_ people aren’t getting bullets and knives shot at them every other night! You — you — dude, do you _understand_ how much we’re all stressing out, thinking about how _often_ you _almost get KILLED!”_

“I _really do,_ Morgan! Cause I’ve watched _dad_ , and _Rhodey_ , and _Nat_ almost get killed _so often,_ man — I — I was _there_ when Rhodey was getting his surgery on his fucking paralysed legs! And I was _there_ when dad came home from Siberia almost dead because Cap shoved a _vibranium_ shield _into his chest!_ And I was _there_ when Kingpin shot Nat and she was feeling out on our couch, and — Morgan, I don’t wanna be there when this lady hurts dad, I — Mo, I _can’t_ watch him get hurt again.”

Peter leant back in his sisters chair, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just — He just keeps almost dying, and — and If Katie is dangerous enough to make my sixth sense go off? Then _that_ is bad, and… and I don’t know what she’s gonna do, and — I can’t lose him. He’s my dad, bro, and I — I can’t do that.”

“I know.” Morgan whispered. Peter looked up at her, and saw that her eyes were watering. “I — can’t lose dad either, Pete, cause I — I only _just_ found him, man, and — and if she’s gonna do something, I — I don’t want something bad to happen, bro, because… contrary to popular belief, I _do_ actually need a dad.”

Peter laughed. “God I’m glad that this sorta shit isn’t going down with mom. Because I’m so happy that I —“

He looked up at his sister abruptly, as she did the exact same — they were thinking the same thing, and they said it at the same time. _“What if she sabotages mom?”_

 _“Shit!”_ Morgan said. “Shit, what if she tries to like, stop dad from letting us see mom or something? What if — we’re being ridiculous, aren’t we?”

“Maybe a little.” He shrugged. “But we just can’t risk it.”

He looked at Morgan. She looked back at him, and grinned. “We need to make dad break up with her.”

Peter crossed his arms, and nodded. “Yes. We. Do.”

Morgan nodded, her head tilted slightly in consideration as she painted a few last lines of blue and green. Then, she put the paintbrush down in a cup of turps, to clean them, and sat up straight. “Alright, is there… there any notebooks up there? Pens?”

“Yeah.” Peter said, opening the top drawer of the new desk and grabbing the sketchbook that they’d bought at IKEA, and a couple of pens. He threw it all down to Morgan, and she opened the book to the first double page spread.

“Alrighty!” Morgan opened one of the pens, and looked up at him expectantly. “What’re we thinking?”

“Uh —“ Peter shrugged. “ _‘Plan to break up dad and his annoying new girlfriend.”_

“Ha- _ha”_ She said, rolling her eyes, but still writing those exact words in fancy, calligrapher-worthy cursive lettering. “I meant the _plan,_ man! Like, how we gon break those dumb dumbs up?”

He crossed his legs in the chair, and leant his elbows on his knees, then leant his had on his head in his hands. “Dunno.” He said shortly. “We’ve gotta figure out why me like, soul or whatever, doesn’t like her. Then I guess we make dad see that — plant evidence that leads to the truth.”

His sister wrote that down on the first half of her double page, and circled it with a blue highlighter. “So we need to find some truth.” She groaned, and bumped her head on the floor lightly. “It would be helpful if we went to her’s instead of here for once… she always comes here — maybe that will help us find some truth.”

“Hard part is figuring out where she lives.” Peter mumbled. He was feeling... kind of… _tired_ , suddenly.

Morgan looked up from the book, where she had started writing and using the colours to do bubbles around words titles, arrows, and… all sorts. He didn’t really understand the way that girls just _needed_ to make _all_ of their writing look pretty — it kind of scared him. Her eyebrows were raised, and she yawned quietly. “You okay bro?”

“Huh?” He shook his head to clear it, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Dude.” Morgan deadpanned. “You look tired — you should sleep.”

“No, no, no, no — I don’t need sleep!” He smiled awkwardly. “I need to hang out with my little sister, because she literally moved in today and it’s super exciting!”

Morgan glared at him. “First — I don’t think you could’ve slept more than an hour last night… and don’t try deny it — FRIDAY told me.”

“Fucking snitch.” Peter muttered under his breath, glaring up at the ceiling.

FRIDAY had always been the bane of his existence — exactly the same as JARVIS before her. Most people could get away with anything, but not him; _no,_ he had the super smart, snitching AIs fighting against him.

But… despite how much he complained about FRI, and about JARVIS making it impossible to steal cookies when he was a kid… he missed J. A lot. It was kind of weird to miss an AI — especially with Vision (who was literally JARVIS with a body and an objective) around so much.

He knew that his dad felt the same, but worse — because J had been his dads first _successful_ AI. JARVIS had been named for Edwin Jarvis, who basically raised the man, despite his insistence that J’s name had been an acronym.

They both missed an AI.

But FRIDAY was still around, and still fucking shit up.

His sister smirked at him. “Also, I’m less than _five minutes_ younger than you, so shit up, _and_ I moved in _yesterday — and_ I care more about my brother getting at least four hours asleep, so that he can _somewhat_ function at school tomorrow.”

Peter yawned involuntarily. “Shit, yeah, school.” He mumbled. “Yeah, imma sleep. Gimme a hug.”

“That was easy.” He heard his sister mutter under her breath. He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, i’ll probably sleep now, too.”

“If I sleep, so do you.” Peter said, and his sister nodded in agreement, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Kay. Give me a hug.”

They hugged tightly, then he watched his sister collapse on her new bed exhaustedly before leaving. “Fucking sleep sis.” He whispered loudly on his way out. She finger gunned, and he poked his tongue out, before turning off the light, and crawling into his own bed across the hall tiredly.

Fuck, he had school tomorrow.

_Today._

Whatever.

**_APRIL 08, 2-25, 9:43 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AN TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Thank you.” Morgan whispered to her brother, as they made their way between first and second period. “For making me sleep when you did last night. I mean, I don’t feel that different, but I’ve only had two caffeines today, so that’s a definite positive. A lot better than the usual seven million.”

Her brother smirked at her. “What can I say — being an older brother has made me a very _responsible_ human being.”

“Oh, reallly?” She asked sarcastically.

“Oh yeah!” Peter nodded dramatically. “Yup. You know, when I was your age —“

“— A round about three minutes and twenty one seconds ago —“

“I was sitting on a plastic chair, in a stuffy classroom, with a desk with two broken legs that made it rick uncontrollably whenever I tried to write.

“Sounds amazing.” Morgan rolled her eyes as they sat down in their second period class — English. She was next to Michelle, who just rolled her eyes as Peter stuck his tongue out teasingly. Morgan smiled at the curly haired girl sitting next to her. “Hi, Michelle!”

“Hey.” Michelle said, giving her a slight nod. “You know you can call me MJ, right?”

“MJ?” Morgan asked. That sounded like a name for a comic book character.

“Michelle Jones; MJ.” Michelle (MJ?) explained shortly. “My friends call me MJ.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Michelle Jones — who her brother had repeatedly told her didn’t really do ‘friends’ — was here, and seemingly considering Morgan as a _friend._

That was cool. Super cool.

Morgan now had like, three whole friends; Cindy, Ned, and now Michelle — _MJ._ Cindy, Ned and MJ.

Peter was her brother, so he couldn’t really count as a friend. More like ‘person that I have basically the same genetic makeup as because we were created simultaneously by the same parents’ sort of thing.

...he was still her favourite, though. Morgan was pretty sure the sibling rivalry and arguments and all that shit would start eventually — but something about finding her twin brother after twelve years apart was making it impossible for Morgan to be mad at him.

“Okay!” Mrs. Winterhalter leant on her desk at the front of the classroom, a stack of green booklets next to her. “We have _officially_ made it to assessment four, so good job on getting here! Only seven left after this!”

There was a collective groan from the class, and the teacher winced. “Yeah. I don’t set the curriculum; sorry.”

Mrs. Winterhalter was the kind of person that it was hard not to like. Morgan really knew more about her from what Peter said, since she was still pretty new at Midtown Tech — and her brother seemed to really enjoy Mrs. Winterhalters teaching. He’d said that she made English _‘almost as fun as science.’_

Moral of the story, Mrs. Winterhalter was cool, and Morgans brother was very, _very_ nerdy.

The teacher started handing out the green booklets, as she started to explain assessment four. “Task four is a multimodal presentation — an individual, visual response to novels about different human rights issues… _so,_ you’re probably starting to see the links between all of our major assessments, cause we’ve been doing _To Kill A Mockingbird_ all year, and then after this one we’re doing _What Tomorrow Brings_ , so — yeah. This is your year for human rights!”

Morgan rested her chin on her folded arms as Mrs. Winterhalter kept talking about the task, and the marking criteria, and the sorts of books that they should be choosing from to base their project on.

_The Book Thief, The Boy in Striped Pyjamas, I Am Malala, Follow The Rabbit-Proof Fence, Schindlers List._

A _lot_ of the suggestions were about Nazi-era Germany… Maybe she could convince Peter to convince their dad to get Nat to drag Captain Rogers and Mister Barnes out of their wedding planning frenzy to give her some (totally, _really_ unbiased) information about World War Two, and Nazi stuff.

That in itself would probably be quite difficult to do, though — because from what Peter said, all they did was wedding plan and train at the compound.

Morgan kind of stopped listening to Mrs. Winterhalter a bit — instead focusing on her workbook, and using the back page to brainstorm more ideas for breaking her dad and Katie fucking Reed up.

She started writing, barely conscious of what she was actually putting down on the page. Writing the first things that came into her mind.

_ HOW TO BREAK UP DAD AND HIS ANNOYING NEW GF. _

    * _First degree murder_
    * _Second degree murder_
    * _Plant evidence (theft? fraud? murder?)_
    * _she is the worst I want her gone._
    * _Just tell father that she sucks — > 99.98% likelihood of failure_
    * _STALK HER AND FIND HER HOUSE AND ALL OF HER SECRETS!!!!_
    * _Just kick her out_
    * _EMPLOY THE POTATO FARMER_
    * _dea th_



It took Morgan a minute or so to realise that she had actually been writingideasl of plans — most of them being very illegal and very crime-y.

And _maybe_ getting sent to prison for trying to get rid of Katie wasn’t the best idea.

Morgan tapped her nails on the desk distractedly, trying unsuccessfully to figure out a _legal_ way to break up Katie and her dad that would actually _work._

MJ laughed quietly beside her, and so she looked up at her (friend?) _classmate._ “What?” She asked, somewhat defensively.

MJ just shrugged. “Step-mom?” She asked, somewhat offhandedly.

“Dad’s girlfriend.” Morgan explained shorty. “She sucks.”

“I’d bet.” MJ said, looking at Morgan in consideration. “Hence the murder and fraud and all. I wanted to murder my step-dad when he first showed up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Didn’t like the fact that mom was with someone other then my dad. Jack’s a nice guy, though. Maybe you should give her some time.”

Morgan grimaced. “I dunno, dude. There’s just something… not right about her.”

“Nor right about her?” MJ asked, raising her eyebrows. “Like how Parker keeps disappearing and won’t tell anyone why?”

 _“What?”_ Morgan asked, dumbfounded.

“I’m not obsessed with him,” MJ said blandly. “I’m just observant.”

“Right.” She said, bit uncomfortably — because it was pretty obvious that MJ actually was at least a _little_ obsessed with her idiot brother. Maybe even _liked_ him. “And I guess it’s the same sort of deal, kind of. But my brother doesn’t like her either; and I can _never_ trust someone if he doesn’t.”

“You have a _brother?”_

Oh, shit.

It was lie o’clock.

“Yeah.” Morgan replied casually. “Couple years older than me. You?”

“Two older sisters.” MJ said blandly. “Twenty two and twenty three. They both liked our stepdad right away.”

“I dunno.” Morgan shrugged, then sighed. “My brother doesn’t like her and — and I trust my brothers judgement.”

She trusted her brothers judgement — her brother, who was _Spider-man;_ a superhuman vigilante.

Morgan looked down at her short list, as an idea came into her head. She wrote it down.

    * _Luna_



She just hoped that her brother actually had decent judgement.

**_APRIL 08, 2-25, 12:21 PM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AN TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter really wanted to trust his sisters judgement. He really, really did.

But, somehow, her judgement had lead to her becoming absolutely _drenched_ in the terrible soup that the lunch ladies seemed to throw anything they could possibly find in it.

So that was… a thing that happened.

Apparently Morgan was just as clumsy and uncoordinated as he had been back when he was _actually_ blind. Before his eyes sorted themselves out.

She didn’t seem overly happy about the fact that she was now _wearing_ the classic _‘I think the lunch ladies might have put some roadkill in here but oh well’_ soup. Peter definitely knew that he would hate it too.

“Fucking —“ Morgan muttered, tearing the bread roll that she got to replace the soup. “— dumb ass soup — _for fucks sake!”_

She slammed her hand down on the table, making Ned jump in surprise. Michelle, in her usual spot alone at the other end of the lunch table, glanced at Morgan with raised eyebrows. Morgan glared at Peter.

“What?” He asked defensively. “I didn’t spill soup on you — _you_ did.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “You better have a fucking hoodie in your locker.” She said, her voice low. He rolled his eyes at his sister.

“Of course I have a _hoodie,_ Morgan, I’m not actually fucking insane. You know the combination; it’s just shoved in there. It’s from MIT — red.”

“Dads?” She asked grumpily.

“Yeah.”

“This is so cool!” Ned exclaimed, looking between Peter and Morgan excitedly. “So, so cool! Like, you being _you_ was cool already — but now there’s _two_ of you! And your mom — your mom is your _mom!_ Like that’s awesome! How did I become friends with people that are so awesome?”

Morgan just stared at him in annoyance for a moment, then stood up and hauled her bad over her shoulder. “I’m leaving, I’ll probably be back; Bye.”

She left, and Peter laughed quietly, turning to his best friend to whisper. “It’s all cool and awesome until you realise that everyone in your life knew that you had a twin sister and never told you — _especially_ mom and dad… and you can forgive them, even if you’ll never forget what they did to you — and then you have the newfound issue of dad having a girlfriend that you _know_ something isn’t right about… but dad has super trust issues and wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t trust into his personal life — _especially_ not to the point where they meet me — and so you feel bad about wanting to break them up because that would hurt dad a _lot.”_ Peter drew in a deep breath, and smiled at Ned. “Other than that my somehow randomly acquired twin sister is pretty cool.”

“I can’t believe that your mom is —“ Ned glanced over at MJ, who wasn’t paying them any attention anymore, and his voice dropped to a whisper. _“Pepper Potts!”_

“I _know!”_ Peter whispered back — because he was still having trouble understanding that fact, because it was so _cool!_ His _mom_ was _Pepper Potts!_

“Yo.” Pet and Ned both turned abruptly at the sound of Michelles almost bored sounding voice. “I know it’s none of my business, but I think your sister’s trying to kill someone, Parker.”

Oh _shit! Surely_ Michelle Jones couldn’t _actually_ know… right?

“What?” Peter said dumbly, trying to tap into the lessons of lying and deception that Nat had given five year old Peter. “I don’t —“ He cleared his voice, and spoke with more confidence. “I don’t _have_ any sisters, Jones. Only child right here.”

“Sure.” Michelle said, tilting her head slightly — god, she looked like _Nat_ when she did that. “Well _Morgan_ says she has a brother.”

“That doesn’t mean that it’s me.”

“Right.” She turned back away from them, and Peter groaned, and lowered his voice again. “You got any ideas to help me?”

“With your dads crazy girlfriend? Not really.” Ned shrugged. “I haven’t got any experience with that, dude.”

 _“Oh?”_ Michelle turned back to them again. “Issues with a _step-mom?”_

“No.” Peter crossed his arms in front of him defensively. “She’s not my _step-mom._ They’re not _married,_ and they won’t _get_ married.”

“Pfft.” She scoffed. “Exact same issue that Morgan’s having! She’s your _sister.”_

“She is _not_ my sister! Two people can be having the same issue. Doesn’t mean she’s my sister.”

“Sure. How’s your mom taking it?”

Peter rolled his eyes — he had a backstory, he would stick with it. He had for his entire life. “I don’t have a mom.”

“Mmhmm.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Died in a car crash in 2013, right?”

“Yeah.”

“No she didn’t.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “You and your sister are both _terrible_ at lying.”

“Whatever.” Peter shot her a glare, then slumped down onto the table. Michelle turned back to the book in her hand. “Help, Ned. Please. Please help me.”

 _“Dude!”_ Ned whisper shouted. “I don’t know how to help — oh, look; there’s Morgan!”

“Hi.” His sister said, still sounding irritated, now wearing one of their dads old MIT hoodies; the one that Peter kept hidden in his locker for emergencies. “This is _so_ comfortable.”

“It’s Dad’s.” He shrugged. “Stole it.”

“I’ve gotta do that sometime.” Morgan also slumped down onto the table, the same as Peter. “I smell like fucking month old cafeteria soup.”

“It’s not that bad.” Ned reasoned. “It could be the fish stick tacos. They’re somehow even worse than the soup.”

Peter groaned at the thought of the goddamned mother fucking fish stick tacos. “Worst thing ever.”

Morgan groaned. “Very glad I haven’t had them yet.”

“They got cancelled before spring break — school board decided that they were unsanitary and inedible.” Ned said. “I definitely don’t disagree.”

“They were worse than literally anything _ever.”_ Peter murmured. 

“Would you rather spend time with Katie then? That bad?”

Peter banged his head against the table. “Almost. I’d probably choose the food. Over the — over the _her.”_

“Yeah.” Morgan agreed. “I mean, I never had your fish taco things, but _anything_ is better than — better than _her.”_

“Okay, yeah, It’s confirmed.” Michelle interrupted. “Y’all are brother and sister — y’all are _twins.”_

“MJ!” Morgan exclaimed, making Peter look at her in surprise.

 _“MJ?”_ He asked her. She waved him off.

“Why would _Parker_ be my _twin?”_

“Well, it’s either that, or you’re dating.”

“No!” Peter and Morgan exclaimed a the same time, before continuing to talk in sync. “We’re not _dating!”_

“So you’re twins.”

“Holy fuck, MJ, no!” Morgan snapped a little. “Seriously, dude, Peter is _not_ my brother! _My brother_ is seventeen, and his name is _Jordan.”_

Michelle — why was his sister calling her _MJ? —_ looked taken aback, like she was surprised by that. Well, it _was_ a lie, but Morgan made that lie surprisingly good.

Wow.

His sister actually _could_ lie.

**APRIL 09, 2025, 12:07 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.**

Morgan was in her dads workshop-lab-garage place, and it felt like a _major_ invasion of privacy — she didn’t even know her dad that well. She didn’t know how he’d react if he found her down here.

Luckily, she knew he was in bed. Because Katie fucking Reed was staying over the night (like, _ew)_ , and she had insisted that he stay with her the whole night (even more _ew_ ).

And so, Morgan had a few hours to herself to… sort her idea out.

 _Luna._ Probably could’ve been a cooler name, but it was the first thing that popped into her head, and anything more… _descriptive_ would make her idea much more obvious — and then _Peter_ would know what she was trying to do, and that would lead to all sorts of messes.

Luna was simple, it was nice, it didn’t give anything away, it was _Italian_ (like a quarter of her DNA), and, most importantly, it was a damn cool theme.

Spacey. Moony. She could do all sorts with that — so much _opportunity._

She’d made sure that her brother was asleep before coming down to the workshop. Lab. Garage.

Whatever it was meant to be; no-one had really told her.

Morgan started to build.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going to let yall try figure out what luna is hehe


	11. PART TEN

**_APRIL 09, 2025, 2:48 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan didn’t think too much about what she was doing as she worked — building Luna. She was good at this sort of thing, even if her mom hadn’t really been able to teach her about it in the same way that her dad definitely taught Peter.

Plus, she’d been planning to make something like this since she was seven years old, when she read an article about Tony Starks’ genius, and all the crazy stuff he’s made — one example being FRIDAY, who controlled her dads house, as well as the Avengers Compound and some of the SI facilities, and JARVIS before her, who Morgan was pretty sure she had a few _very_ vague memories of.

Seven year old her had been an Iron Man enthusiast — which she realised now had probably caused her mom a _lot_ of grief — and so when she found out that her hero (who was her actual goddamn _dad!_ ) had made AIs… well, naturally she wanted to do the same.

Hence why she was making Luna without too much difficulty. She’d been planning this for _seven years —_ that was _half of her life!_ Years and years of careful planning for something that she couldn’t physically make seemed to be paying off.

The fact that she ran through some of her dads AIs codings first also helped, but nobody needed to know that she did that

Morgan took one of her headphones out, and glanced back over the line of code that she was writing on her laptop, double checking it. She looked up at the ceiling. “Hey FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Miss Potts?” FRIDAY answered, making Morgan roll her eyes at the name — the AI called her brother Peter, but insisted on _Miss Potts_ for her… she hoped that eventually FRIDAY would just call her by her first name.

“Just, uh — Just Morgan’s fine, dude. And, can you please run through this? Check if it’s right — like check if it’ll work?”

“Running simulation.” FRIDAY replied quickly, and Morgans laptop lit up, scrolling through the lines and lines of information before a clear voice spoke, coming from the speakers.

“Hello, I am a Lucky Unreal Natural Alcoholic, or LUNA. How may I be of assistance?”

 _“Yes!”_ Morgan exclaimed, grinning. “Holy _shit,_ it works! Okay, okay, okay, uh — what’s the time, LUNA?”

“It is currently two fifty-one AM — I would advise that you go to sleep, as you have an alarm set on your phone for six-thirty AM, which is in three hours and thirty-nine minutes time.” LUNA paused, before she continued to speak. “It is recommended that teenagers get nine to nine and a half hours of sleep a night, and even if you go to sleep immediately, you will get less than half of that.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Okay, dude, your job isn’t to lecture me on my sleep deprivation, but whatever.”

“What does my job entail, if it is not to ensure your health?”

“Eh.” Morgan shrugged. “Fun stuff. You gotta help me make a suit, then help me figure out Katie fucking Reed, and then… and then I guess you just help me do what Peter’s been doing, aye?”

“So you do not wish for me to consider your safety? Because communications with FRIDAY have made it clear that my primary function should be to ensure the safety of you and your brother, as hers is.”

Morgan paused. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised that her dads AI’s main purpose was to protect his kids, but… it had only been like, three days since he properly re-met her. Morgan glanced up at the roof. “Hey FRI?”

“Yes, Miss Potts?”

Morgan swallowed the lump that was, for some reason, forming in her throat. “Is — when did protecting me get added to your main purpose?”

“That protocol became functional on June eighth, 2015.” FRIDAY said. She paused for a second, before continuing. “The protocol was programmed on September first, 2013.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, a bit confused. “Why’d it take so long to become functional?”

“The protocols only became fully functional when _I_ became fully functional. Before me, JARVIS had the same protocols, and so when I replaced him, I activated his functions.”

“Huh.” Morgan shrugged. “You’re not going to out me to dad, are you? Because I know you didn’t out Pete, and so if you told him I was doing this, that would be favouritism… and that’s just _rude,_ FRI.”

“I will not tell Boss under the same circumstances that I kept Peters secret.” FRIDAY said. “If you come home injured in a way that could not happen in your normal, day to day life, then I will alert your father, and tell him what you’ve been doing.”

Morgan let out a long breath. “Oof. Guess I can’t be a fucking idiot all the time like my dumbass brother and get shot.” She letout a short, humorous laugh. “Alrighty. LUNA?”

“Yes, Boss?” Her AI answered.

Morgan recoiled something. “No, no, no, no, no, LUNA — LU — just Morgan. FRI calls dad boss, but you just call me Morgan, kay?”

“I understand, Morgan.” LUNA said, and Morgan grinned and clapped her hands together. “What do you need assistance with?”

“Right. Can I upload you into my phone? Would that work?”

“My systems are already uploaded on both your StarkPhone S9, and your StarkBook S4112. I am fully functional on both devices.”

“Cool.” She nodded. “Alright so if you pull up some of the schematics for dads repulsers and his arc reactor —“ LUNA projected the plans. “— yeah, those ones… _So,_ dads reactor is in his body — which, _ew —_ and has an electromagnet in it so he doesn’t control-alt-delete himself… but the arc reactor, theoretically, could just like… be in the suit without the electromagnet being attached to _me,_ right?”

“It would appear so.” LUNA said. “The addition of the electromagnet just uses more power that could be used on powering the suit and repulsers.”

“Right.” Morgan agreed. “So we just get rid of that stuff at the back —“ She swiped at the floating plan, removing the back part of the arc reactor, and some of the inner workings. “— then we just re-wire all this shit here, and — yeah. We’re golden.”

**_APRIL 09, 2025, 6:33 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter was pretty damn irritated at the facts of life — that sleep was _actually_ underrated. He got a whole seven hours worth of it, and he felt _way_ worse than he would with no sleep at all.

And he was, for some reason, really, really cold… which the after effects of his spider bite didn’t help with much, because adding just that _tiny_ bit of spider to his genetics seemed to make him a lot more cold blooded, and affected his ability to thermoregulate. Because while he could still do it, he couldn’t do it _well._

He did his regular morning-after-he’d-slept routine — scrolled through his phone to see what he missed when he was asleep. It didn’t seem to be much, so he started scrolling through some memes on instagram…

And then he was it.

Someone had posted a screenshot of a BuzzFeed article, which had a couple of photos of his mom and some _guy_ on it — and the fact that there were more than one of these photos, all with the same guy, was probably the thing that he noticed the most.

Because _shit._ It went unsaid between Peter and his sister that if exposing Katie wasn’t effective enough, they would just sneakily set their parents up together.

But that would be a _lot_ harder if their mom had a new partner too.

Peter was frozen, but he braved looking down at the caption of the post — probably not his smartest idea ever, but just because he was _smart,_ didn’t mean he had _common sense._

**_the_queen_pepper_potts__ ** _pepper potts had a new mystery guy!!_

_..._

_#pepperpotts #themysteryman #starkindustries #doesanyoneevenknowhernameisvirginalol #starkindustriesceo #lolwonderwhattonythinks #lowkeyalwaysshippedthembutthisdudeseemslegit #celebrities #celebritygossip #whatlol #wonderwhatherkidthinks_

Well. Her kid — _neither_ of her kids — had known about this guy, so they didn’t even have the _opportunity_ to think something of it. Shit.

Peter quickly searched up the BuzzFeed article, and opened it as soon as he found it, _needing_ to know more about it — yet another _amazing_ decision made by Peter James Stark. He was just great at life. 

_Celebrity · Posted 5 hours ago_

**_Pepper Potts Has Been Seen With This Guy At Heaps Of Events And Now I’m A Bit Obsessed_ **

_I am now obsessed, thank you for listening to my Ted Talk._

**_—————_ **

_We all know Pepper Potts, from her spot as Tony Starks’ assistant, back in the ’00’s (lol remember when she had to rescue him from drowning in that pond in ’07? iconic.), and since 2011, becoming one of Forbes most powerful women in business. She is awesome._

_The mystery of Pepper Potts began in 2021, when paparazzi pictured her with a young girl (around 10 back then), and a Press Conference a few days later confirmed that yes, the girl was her daughter, and no, she would not share anymore details on the girl, other than that their was no father in the picture, and she loved her more than anything else in the world. Coincidentally, this was only about six moths after the discovery of the son of Tony Stark, who the girl has been shipped with for a long time (seriously there is fan fiction about it and its low-key good). In 2022, it was discovered that Miss Potts is fluent in Italian (which isn’t that significant, but its still a thing that literally no-one expected), and then later in 2022, some images from 2012 were leaked, and it was discovered that she had a very brief relationship with Tony Stark after she became Stark Industries CEO._

_So, if she’s managed to hide a CHILD, and a previous relationship with TONY STARK, is it possible that this mystery man is more than what first meets the eyes? Could Pepper Potts finally have a significant other? Or maybe they’ve been together for ages and none of us realised._

_Maybe she’s even had another kid with this guy since we found out about her daughter. Who knows._

_Whatever it is, I love it, and so here’s seventeen pictures of them together at events for like charity and SI and stuff :)_

Following the article was quite a lot (seventeen, if the person said the actual amount of images) of photos of his mom with a tall man with dark hair. He kind of looked like Mario Lopez type guy, who Peter admittedly only recognised from the episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine where Gina leaves.

He always found it entertaining how completely clueless people were about his life — and now about his _and_ Morgans lives, and their _parents._ He would’ve thought that people would have figures _something_ out by now, other than just their existence.

It was funny — in a very weird, ‘secret kid of the rich and famous’ way.

He opened a new tab, and searched up _‘Pepper Potts boyfriend’,_ hoping to find more information on the guy that _might_ be dating his mom.

There were a _lot_ of results for that — and so Peter opened the first one, a _daily mail_ article.

**_EXCLUSIVE: Pepper Potts rumoured to be in a relationship with ‘mystery man’, that she has been pictured with at numerous events._ **

    * _Pepper Potts, 48, has become the subject of much media attention, after being pictured closely with the same man repeatedly over past months._


    * _While it is known that Potts has a daughter, the identity of her baby daddy is unknown, and it has been confirmed that she dated Tony Stark for some time in 2012._


    * _The identity of the man is at this time unknown, and so it is uncertain how she knows him, or what the exact details of their relationship are._


    * _It has been assumed that they are in a romantic relationship, after the leakage of an image from last weeks’ Fire Fighters Union Charity Gala, where the two were seen in a steamy embrace._



Peter grimaced at the wording — _‘steamy embrace’,_ could they _possibly_ make it sound worse. He shook his head, avoiding looking at the photo of his mom and her… possible romantic interest in their _steamy embrace_ — gross.

He closed the article, and went down to the next one; Us Weekly — oh god, why was he doing this to himself? Why was he looking at _Us Weekly,_ of all places, to stalk his own mother and her maybe-boyfriend?

_Love Lives_

**_Pepper Potts and her New ‘Trophy Boyfriend.’_ **

_Too hot to handle!_ **_Pepper Potts_ ** _and her new_ **_Mystery Man_ ** _were photographed together at the_ **_Firefighters Union Charity Gala_ ** _last Tuesday, and the image has brought many past pictures of the two together at events to light._

_Potts has always been pretty secretive with her private life, as revealed in 2021, with the discovery of her_ **_daughter,_ ** _and again in 2022, when she revealed that she had a relationship with ex-boss_ **_Tony Stark_ ** _around the time of the_ **_Battle of New York._ **

_She has not done a press release confirming nor denying her relationship with the man, as she did when photos of both her daughter, and her relationship with Stark, were released._

Basically the same thing — where was the _flavour?_ The actually _helpful_ stuff? Peter groaned quietly, and closed the search engine, instead opening twitter, and searching _‘Pepper Potts boyfriend’_ again.

There were a lot of results, but he went to recent instead of trading, and read the first few.

Because _obviously_ turning to _Twitter_ was an amazing idea 

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 4, 2025_

_like,,,, I know heaps of ppl are talking about pepper potts and her new maybe #pepperpottsboyfriend but — and hear me out guys — this has made all the gossip channely people talk about her_ daughter _, and how she dated_ tony stark, _and using that to say that she’s very good at hiding shit and everything…_

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 4, 2025_

_BUT i have a theory right? because she dated stark in 2012, and her kid was about 10 in 2021… so what if her kid was nine, and actually the kid of her_ and _tony stark_

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 4, 2025_

_which is why I’ve never liked the fact that ppl think potts’ kid and starks kid will end up together (be they might be like literal half siblings like ew) but now its also the reason i don’t ship her and mystery man #pepperony #pepperonyforever #fuckpepperpottsnewboyfriend #drinkHIMsomebleachbois #thatwaslowkeyharsh #but #yallknowwhatimsaying_

That was nice. And… surprisingly accurate. He and Morgan were eleven in 2021, not nine, but… other than that, and the fact that they were twins rather than half siblings, it was all exactly right. Which was — well, slightly concerning that some random person on twitter figured it out.

Luckily it was twitter, so people probably wouldn’t take it seriously. Hopefully. Peter scrolled down to the next one.

**_Willow Anne Pilkes_ ** _@theycallmeWAP·Apr 4, 2025_

_yalll yalll yalll ugqwaulgoyewqgbfy i have no idea who #pepperpottsboyfriend is but I officially love them!!!!! Like yaaassss queen u go get you some hot trophy man!!!!_

Less good. It wasn’t great that a lot of people seemed to ship his mom and her new _guy_ — Peter sure as hell didn’t, and he _really_ wasn’t comfortable with the thought that _both_ of his parents were dating.

Especially since it was at once. And it was so sudden. And he didn’t even know his mother that well, so what right did he have to not want her to date?

It was all a mess… and Peter _really_ had to tell his sister about all of this.

**_APRIL 09, 2025, 6:45 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

A loud banging woke Morgan, and she blinked hurriedly, trying to orient herself.

She’d fallen asleep at her desk, with a half-made repulser wrapped around her left hand, and a bunch of planning sketches under her head… at least she’d had the sense to come upstairs at some point during her building, last night.

She checked her phone, and groaned when she saw the time. Quarter to seven… well, twenty seven minutes of sleep wasn’t the worst she’d had lately.

“Coming!” She yelled groggily, which made the banging on the door stop.

“Be faster!” Her brothers voice said irritably. “Dad wants us all to all have nice fun breakfast together. Don’t bother getting dressed.”

Morgan shrugged to herself, and pulled the door of her room open, rolling her eyes when she saw Peter. “Nice fun breakfast together?” She raised her eyebrows.

Peter groaned. “Its cause Katie stayed last night. So we have to like, sit at the dining room table together for more than the cereal seven-second long breakfast.” He started dragging her in the direction of the stairs. “That’s why we’re awake. Now. So early.”

Morgan could tell that her brother was leaving something unsaid, but didn’t say anything about it, instead following him closely. When they got to the dining room, Katie was sitting alone on one side, and their dad was standing up, plating up four dishes of omelettes. He sat down on the very end of the table, and so Peter and Morgan sat down next to each other on the opposite side to Katie. This time, Morgan sat across from Katie instead of her brother.

They all sat their for a moment, and Morgan gave her dad a short smile. He grinned back, then started cutting up his omelette. Everyone else followed suit.

After a few moments, her brother swallowed, and cleared his throat. Everybody looked at him, and he grimaced slightly. “You guys seen the newest gossip news?”

Katie rolled her eyes, and Morgans dad raised an eyebrow at her brother. “Yeah?” Their dad asked. “What is it?”

“Mom has a mystery guy.”

Morgan dropped her cutlery, her jaw dropping, and their dad seemed to freeze halfway into taking a bite of omelette. Morgan noticed that Katie just leant back smugly, but she didn’t really comprehend it.

Because her _mom_ had a _mystery guy._ Her dad had a horrible girlfriend, and now her _mom_ had a _mystery guy._

 _Her mom had a mystery guy, her mom had a mystery guy, her mom had a mystery guy. Her mom had a mystery guy, her mom had a mystery guy, her mom had a mystery guy, her mom had a mystery guy._ Her mom had a mystery guy — Holy _SHIT!_

Peter nodded to her sympathetically. “Yeah. I only found out through instagram. I wonder when she was planning on telling us.”

“I —” Their dad started, before cutting himself off. Morgan had a feeling that he was _maybe_ a little _jealous…_ but he brushed it off instead. “That’s nice.”

Morgan whipped around to stare at him — because how could he even _say that?_ “How is that _nice?”_ Morgan exclaimed, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. _“How_ is mom having a _mystery guy — nice?”_

“It’s — Mo, it’s good for her,” Their dad said slowly, and Morgan stared at him, dumbfounded. “It’s just good that she… y’know, is getting out there.”

She took an angry bite of her omelette, glaring down at her plate angrily. “I’m not mad that she’s ‘getting out there’” she said once she’d finished her mouthful. “I’m mad that she didn’t tell me.”

“To be fair…” Peter said slowly, nudging her slightly. “Dad didn’t tell me about Katie.”

“Fair enough.” Their dad shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the comment. “And I mean, your mom didn’t tell you about me. And I didn’t tell Pete about her. This family just doesn’t know how to deal with romance.”

Morgan noticed the way that Katie shuddered when her dad said _this family —_ it was probably because her mom was included in that family. Morgan smiled about that, the anger dropping from her face for a moment.

“You…” Her dad started slowly. “It’s okay if you want to stay with her tonight. To sort this out. You can too, Pete. If you want. I don’t — mind.”

A small scoff left Morgan, and she heard her brother snort in laughter. They both looked at their dad. “You so clearly mind, dad.” Morgan said rolling her eyes. “Plus, it’s fine. I went twelve years without you, I think I can wait a week to ask mom about this _man.”_

“Are you sure?” He asked cautiously.

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. And she doesn’t make omelettes this good, either, so double win!”

“Hah!” Her dad exclaimed. “I _told_ your mom that I’m better at cooking now! The plane omelette of 2011 can suck it!”

“Yeah, uh —“ Katie tapped Morgans dads arm lightly. “What actually _is_ the plane omelette of 2011.”

Morgan and Peter shared a look, because they’d both heard this story, Peter from their dad, and Morgan from their mom — obviously they hadn’t known that it was _both_ of their parents in that story until a few weeks ago, but they knew now. Their dad burst out laughing, glancing up at the confused expression on Katies face, ad then laughed louder. “The — In 2011 —“ He got out, trying to cease his laughter a bit. “— y’know how I, uh — I went in that race in Monaco? And Vanko Attacked?”

“Yeah?” Katie said sceptically, obviously not understanding the connection between that and the omelette yet.

 _“Well,_ Pep was _really_ mad at me, so I made her an omelette on the plane home…” He laughed shortly, obviously not noticing the flash of irritation that crossed Katies face when he said _Pep._ “… and it was _awful._ That was before I stole moms old cookbooks from May, so I was just kinda winging it —“

“— _dad—“_ Peter muttered, shaking his head, when their father said _winging it._

“— and so Pep banned me from ever even _attempting_ to cook again. Especially for the kids.” Sadness crossed his face, and he looked down at his place. “Yeah. I didn’t finally get my shit together until 2013. When I actually _had to_ cook to keep the kid alive.”

Peter frowned next to her, and Morgan patted her brothers forearm comforting. She tried to lighten the mood. “Well, you’re great at this now, so… good job. Nobody’s died from your cooking.”

Her dad snapped his fingers, and grinned. “Exactly! The same can’t be said for my dearest sister!”

Katie raised her eyebrows, and then it was Peters turn to laugh, as he started counting things off on his fingers. “She gave Hap food poisoning once —“

“— hey, I remember that!” Morgan exclaimed, and their dad snorted in laughter.

Peter nodded, and kept listing things. “Yeah. She spilt soup on Rhodey once and whatever she’d put in it made his leg braces stop working —“

“— that was _bad.”_ Their dad muttered.

“Mmhmm. She once set the whole kitchen on fire, and Uncle Ben burnt his arm trying to put it out, and had to wear a sling for a month.”

Their dad grinned. “When we were kids, she tried to make out parents cookies, and… our father was throwing up for like, four hours.” He said the word _father_ weirdly, but Morgan assumed that had something to do with Howard Stark’s A plus (AKA terrible) parenting skills.

“Sweet Jesus.” Morgan murmured. “Now I’m actually afraid for the sake of my health and safety.”

“You should be.” Her brother mumbled. “I’m surprised I’ve lived this long.”

“Honestly, me too.”

Peter, Morgan and their dad all stared at Katie when she spoke. Her dad looked to he disbelieving, and Peter looked _so mad._ Morgan would probably bitch slap her later on.

“Oh, I just mean —“ Katie said quickly. “— you were like… a mess, back then — especially 2013 — and like… y’know.”

Oh, that little _hoe._

Morgans dad shrugged it off, but she and Peter definitely didn’t.

They would find out what the fuck was up with Katie fucking Reed, and they would _bring her down._

For them. For their dad. For literally every human in existence… because something about Katie just _wasn’t_ right — and she was getting more and more bitchy as the days went on.

Morgan would start her investigation — _tonight_.

**_APRIL 09, 2025, 10:51 PM — SOMEWHERE IN INWOOD, OUTSKIRTS OF MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter _knew_ that he would come to regret doing this — regret stealing back his suit from his dad and following Morgan (who had a _retro-reflective_ suit now, _somehow_ ) across to the outskirts of Manhattan.

But he needed to figure out whaat the _hell_ she was up to. It wasn’t normal for a normal person to just randomly acquire a _super suit,_ and then fly across the entire city, going through roads as though they were following a certain car…

And Peter had a feeling he knew which car in particular his sister was following — because Katie had left their place not even five minutes before Morgan slipped out her window (something Peter wouldn’t have noticed if not for his enhanced senses), and started going in the same direction that their fathers girlfriend had driven.

She was trying to expose Katie fucking Reed. And if he could help her do that, he would — even if it meant stealing back his suit and going against his dads direct orders.

Oh well. His dad would survive.

Morgan, on the other hand… well, Peter couldn’t be sure that his sister would be okay. She hadn’t done anything like this before. She didn’t like a double life as a vigilante. She wasn’t experienced in this sort of stuff.

So, Peter was pulling a classic _‘older brother’,_ and following his sister so that he could make sure she was okay. And protect her. And make sure that she didn’t spontaneously combust or something. The fact that he was _doing_ that was kind of horrifying, because yes, he was becoming _that_ stereotypical pretentious older brother… but he only just found his sister, and if she got hurt doing this, he’d feel like it was on him.

He could barely make out Morgans form as she flew down the streets, and he almost ran into her when she halted in front of a plain apartment building. Her suit was very similar to his dads, and it was almost confusing him trying to remember that this was _Morgan,_ not his _dad._

Their near-collision was what finally alerted Morgan to his presence, and she whipped around, her faceplate snapping up, revealing her dumbfounded face.

“What the fuck?” Morgan whispered, firing down her suit so that she floated to the ground. “Why are you here? What are you doing?”

Peter jumped down from the wall he had n=caught himself on, and stood up to his sister, arms crossed. “I could say the same to you, Morgan. Why the _fuck_ do you have a stealth suit? Did you steal that from dad?”

 _“What?”_ She exclaimed, sounding _scandalised._ “I didn’t _steal it from dad,_ I _built_ it. You, on the other hand, _did_ steal that from dad. You stole your suit back to _stalk me!”_

“Yeah, because you _snuck out_ in an actual fucking _suit,_ and followed out dads _girlfriend —_ who I _told_ you was triggering my sixth sense, and had to be _dangerous!_ I’m not letting you do this alone, Mo. We’ll expose her _together.”_

Morgan huffed. “Fine, you can help — on _one_ condition.”

Peter blinked, surprised at how quickly she stopped the argument. “Alright… what is it?”

His sister smirked. “You take me as your plus one to the Stucky wedding.”

“Seriously?” He laughed. “Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s done. I mean, they won’t mind, they love me — just — yeah. That is a _very_ valid condition.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Shut up, dude. It’s like, one of the biggest events if the decade — I aint gonna let my brother _and_ my dad be there, _without me.”_

“Mmhmm.” He agreed. “And you now who _isn’t_ going?”

“Katie fucking Reed?”

“Katie _fucking_ Reed.” Peter grinned. “She was annoyed with dad about it yesterday, cause he’s taking Aunt May as his plus one instead of her, cause invites went out before they got serious. It was _exquisite_ to listen to.”

“Damn.” Morgan said sadly. “I w _ish_ I had your super hearing.”

“No.” Peter said shortly — because she didn’t even want to _imagine_ the shit he heard sometimes. He listened really hard, and heard the distant sound of Katie talking on the phone. “You don’t. She’s a few floors up — it sounds like the fourth. Let’s go.”

“Wow, just take charge of my mission, why don’t you.” Morgan grumbled as the started flying and climbing upwards.

“You’re lucky i’m here.” He shot back. He pointed at the window next to him, on the fourth floor. “If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t know that _that,_ right there, is the window that goes into the bathroom of our fathers girlfriends apartment.”

“Cool.”

Peter paused for a moment, listening as Katie moved around inside her apartment. “You do have a plan, right?”

Morgans faceplate snapped back down, and he could just make out her nod as the retro-reflectiveness covered her again. “Yeah.” She whispered. “Sort of. A vague one.”

“Which is?”

“We wait till she’s asleep, which shouldn’t be too much longer..”

“— cause she’s a _very_ heavy sleeper.” Peter murmured, and his sister nodded. “She snores so loud.”

“Exactly. So we wait till she’s asleep, go in there, and find anything incriminating.”

“Right.” Peter nodded. “I’ll just — listen — while we wait.”

Morgans suit nodded again, and he tuned in on Katies phone conversation more, and actually started computing what she was whiter yelling to the person on the phone.”

 _“— no, I won’t tell you more about my boyfriend and his child,_ Phineas! _Just because we_ work _together, doesn’t mean — no, I won’t tell you who his son is! Phineas Mason you fucking —“_

Well, it seemed that Katie had _some_ decency, at least — she might be ‘ _dangerous’,_ somehow, but at least she wasn’t spilling the tea on Peters identity.

 _“— only got into this because you needed help reversing the affects of the biological — Phineas — Mason, don’t — don’t say that. I_ know _that you only needed me to replace Heath, Mason. Don’t try — fine. I can have it ready in three days. I’m going to sleep. Tell Adrien that the_ thing _is getting there, and it’ll be ready soon.”_ There was a soft sigh. _“Yeah, alright. I’m going to bed — don’t call and wake me up.”_

Peter tried to make sense of the broken up parts of the conversation that he heard. Katie started helping someone called either Phineas or Mason _(?),_ and was making something for him and another person called Adrien in the next three days.

The once solid fact that came from that was the news that Katie was going to bed. So he and Morgan could sneak around — maybe find this secret project of Katies. 

He sighed. “Well, she’s going to bed.” Peter could just make out the outline of Morgans almost-invisible suits helmet tilting to the side slightly. “Someone called Phineas. Or Mason. Phineas Mason? I dunno. She’s helping with him replacing some guy called Heath, and it’s all for a guy called Adrien.” He laughed dryly. “And, you know, as dodgy as all of this sounds, and as much as I don’t like her, she actually does have some human decency.”

Morgans helmet snapped back up, and her eyebrows were raised. “How’d you get that from her conversation?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t tell the dude who I actually was. And she never mentioned you. So at least she isn’t a total stone cold bitch.”

“Always a plus.” Morgan muttered. Then, her face lifted, and she seemed to realise something. “Heath! Heath Jones! Nat told me that he was her husband! She must be working with his old friends or colleagues or something.”

“Huh.” Peter tilted his head, listening in on the slow, even beating of Katie Reeds heart for a moment. She sounded asleep. “She’s asleep.” He confirmed to his sister. “Just — be super quiet, okay?”

She rolled her eyes, before the helmet snapped down again. “Yeah, dude. I know.”

Peter grinned under his mask. “Let’s go!”

**_APRIL 10, 2025, 12:07 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Jeez, we can call her on so much stuff with this one file alone.” Peter murmured. Morgan looked up from her brothers desk, where she was adjusting her suits repulsers a bit, and raised her eyebrows, prompting him to continue. He flicked through the yellow file, shaking his head in disbelief. “We got the names of everyone she’s working with in here — Phineas Mason, Randy Vale, Herman Schultz, Jackson Brice — oh wait, no, he’s dead.”

Her brother flicked back and forth through the pages, and pulled one out, frowning. “I know this dude.” He said, turning it to face her, showing a profile of a man, with a small picture of him clipped to the front. He looked pretty young, and had messy facial hair. How the hell did — “Remember Lizs’ party? When I disappeared? How I said I found the guys dealing alien weapons, and that’s how I ended up at the ferry the other day?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, I remember. The ferry was literally three days ago. The party was on Saturday — you’re the older one out of the two of us, so I’d expect you to start forgetting things first.”

“Ha _ha.”_ Peter rolled his eyes. “Seriously, though. This guy — Jackson Brice — he was at the deal on Saturday. He was with the vulture guy! Holy _shit —_ this _really_ kills two birds with one stone!”

She looked back up from the repulser, tilting her head to the slightly. “Mm. Now we can a; break up dad and Katie, and b; get the flying vulture guy and his crazy alien weapon squad in jail.”

“And its perfect —“ Her brother ginned, putting Jackson Brices’ paper back in the file, which he closed and dropped onto the bed next to him. “— because by getting the aline weapon squad inn jail, we _simultaneously_ get rid of Katie, cause dad will _know.”_

“Lets just hope he doesn’t ‘ _love her despite her mistakes’”_ Morgan muttered, air quoting and rolling her eyes. She used the tweezers she was holding to wove one of the wires in the repulser, to re-close the circuit she had opened when trying to fix the aiming mechanisms.

Peter groaned, uncrossing his legs where he sat on the bed an d stretching back out with the next file that they’d taken.He still looked to be in disbelief. “Holy shit.”He muttered. “Holy shit, her research is _insane!”_

_“Yeah?”_

“Yeah!” He shook his head. It’s a bit… well, it’s unfinished, but it’s crazy — she’s been isolating the _‘once living’_ microbes in the Chitauri tech… so like, the plant matter, so the equivelant of like coal and oil — and she’s been trying to fuze then together to try get some semblance of what the organism — what they were before they died and became the equivalent of coal, and — holy _shit_ , she’s trying to build an alien plant!”

“Shit.” Morgan muttered, glancing up at Peter for a moment. “Shit, really? Why?”

She saw him shrug from the corner of her eye. “Looks like she wants to build an alien plant so that she can get a bunch of them, and — well, it looks like she wants to be able to produce the _‘once living’_ parts of the Chitauri stuff so that they can still make weapons when the leftovers from the Battle of New York run out. It’s crazy.”

Morgan replaced the repulser in the hand of her suit, and started reattaching the arm to the rest of it — which she finished in a minute. When she was done, the suit automatically squished itself down into the size of a book, and covered itself with a fake hardcover.

Peter let out a short laugh, and she raised her eyebrows at him defensively. He kept laughing. “Dude, you’re _insane!_ You —“ He laughed harder. “You made your _suit_ look like a _book._ A _book,_ Mo! Thats some crazy shit!”

He kept laughing, and Morgan rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, ha _ha._ Laugh it up, Mister _‘I was an idiot and accidentally outed myself to mom and dad.’”_

“Shut up.”

“Just saying.” She smirked, shrugging. “At least I have a backup plan. Nobody would think to look in _To Kill A Mockingbird_ for a rip off Iron Man suit.”

Peter shrugged. “Fair enough. Why _To Kill A Mockingbird,_ though”

“You guys did it last term, so I can say I’m trying to catch up, and literally no-one can actually open it without having violent flashbacks to studying it in English, so I don’t think anyone will go trying to read it.” She said, the _’duh’_ implied in her voice.

Her brother still seemed to accept that, and just shrugged in acknowledgement. “Well, back up plan’s probably a good plan.”

“Oh, _yeah.”_ She replied, voice overly sarcastic. “And then I wouldn’t have to sneak my suit back downstairs after using it so that dad doesn’t find out.”

“Dude.” Peter glared at her. “It’s literally not even my fault.”

“Yeah dude, it is.”

“Isn’t!”

“Is!”

“Isn’t!”

“Is!”

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes, and Morgan smirked at her small victory.

He might be _older,_ but Morgan could sure as hell still beat him. Like she had. Repeatedly.

“So.” Peter said, putting the file on the same pile as the first one, and leaning forward onto his elbows. “Where were you gonna go with your plan once you stole anything possibly incriminating from Katie?”

“It’s not _stealing_ —“ Morgan attempted. Peter gave her a pointed look. “— okay, fine, it’s stealing. With _cause,_ though! It was theft with _with cause!”_

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, motives and shit.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Just tell me the next step of the plan.”

“Okay, _fine.”_ She shook her head. “We don’t say anything to dad, and we ambush _her_ instead. Sometime. When no-one else is around.”

“Right.” Her brother nodded in agreement. “Cool, cool, cool. And we don’t say anything to dad?”

“We don’t say anything to dad.” She confirmed. “That would make the plan to fall to shit. No, we wait until we’re alone with her, and —“

“— and confront her.” Peter nodded. “Cool.”

**_APRIL 10, 2025, 2:39 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

She and Peter stood on the steps of school, waiting for either their dad or for Happy. It was Friday, so school was out twenty minutes earlier than usual.

Morgan didn’t know if it was Hap or her dad that she was waiting for, but she and her brother both knew that they’d know as soon as someone turned up.

A white Ford pulled up right in front of them, and beeped its horn. Peter and Morgan exchanged a look, having a silent conversation about whether or not they should get in.

Because that car belonged to _Katie._ That was the car that she had followed in the late hours of last night, so that they could steal confidential, incriminating files from her. Peter nodded slightly, and Morgan shrugged — it seemed that they were getting into Katie fucking Reeds’ car.

Peter moved forward first, and opened the passenger door of the car. He glanced into the car for a moment, checking that it really was their dads girlfriend, and then got in, closing the door behind him. Morgan followed suit, quickly getting into the the back seat, behind her brother.

“Hey, Katie.” Morgan said, a bit awkwardly. Katie glanced back at her, smiling — for the first time ever in a way that didn’t seem fake and patronising.

“Hey.” Katie replied, starting to drive out of the school carpark. “How was everyones day?”

Morgan saw the subtle glance that her brother threw her from the front seat, and surpassed a laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

This was _Katie Reed._ Last night, they literally broke into her apartment, stole her work files and research, and were now plotting how to bring her down and make her be held accountable for whatever she was involved in — and she still seemed to be… just trying to befriend her boyfriends kids.

It was a strange situation, to say the least. Very awkward. Very uncomfortable. Morgan wasn’t enjoying it too much.

“It was alright.” Peter shrugged. “Not much happened. How was yours?”

Katie grinned, as though she was genuinely glad that he was taking an interest… maybe she _was._ Morgan was getting different vibes from the woman than she usually did.

She actually felt a bit bad, because Katie seemed to be trying her hardest to form some sort of friendship with them, and they _broke into her home._ Because her brother had said Katie defended their dad by not leaking their identities, and they were planning on sending her to _jail_.

“It was fine. Fine.” Katie nodded, and she turned the radio up a bit with one hand. “Yeah. Quit my second job, so that was… yeah, that was fun.”

Morgan jumped a little in surprise. Her _second job —_ that _had_ to be the weapons guys… why did she — “Oh?” She asked. “I thought you were in healthcare? Why’d you have a second job?”

Katie shrugged. “I live in the normal world, hon.” She said — not unkindly, like Morgan would’ve expected her to say it. “My, uh… my husband worked there before he died, and they were his friends, and I — I just wanted to help. I wanted to continue his research. Add to it. _Solve_ it. And I needed the wage from it.” She let out a humourless laugh. “A mistake, is what that was.”

She pulled into a carpark, and Morgan realised that they were at Starbucks — the one on Astoria Boulevard that she and Peter had gone to on her second day at Midtown; which was less than a month ago, and still felt like it was years ago.

Kate got out of the car, and they followed. They all sat in a booth in Starbucks, Katie across from Morgan and Peter, and Katie gave them an awkward smile. “Look. I… I realise that I may not have been completely likeable this last week or so. I just — well, I _am_ to blame, but I just want you to know that a lot of my frustrations have been taken out on the two of you.”

“What?” Morgan asked dumbly, completely take aback by what Katie said.

“It’s not exactly easy dating your dad, okay? Just understand that. We’d been together two and a half moths before he even decided that he should tell you about me, Peter, and he then it was still another half a month before he actually did it.”

“Shit, that’s ages.” Peter muttered next to her, and Morgan patted him on the back comfortingly.

“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.” She grimaced. “And… well its not everyday that you meet _the_ Tony Stark, and then you start dating him and things start happening and then he introduces you to his son who is actually his daughter that nobody, including his son, knew about, and she’s Pepper Potts kid too. It’s quite a lot to take it.”

The sympathy found its way to Morgan again; she felt _bad._ For her assumptions of Katie, and for breaking into Katies house. She still might not love her (especially as a girlfriend for her dad), but she felt a lot less hatred toward the older woman. Peter had also relaxed quite a lot, and didn’t seem anywhere near as tense as any other time that he’d been around Katie.

“But… look, even if you guys don’t like me, I’m going to _try_.” She said slowly, then smiled again. “Cool! What do you guys want?”

“Uh…” Peter started, but Morgan cut across him.”

“Coffee Frappacino, please. Extra coffee shot. For each of us.”

Peter nudges her in annoyance, and Katie just kept smiling. “Thats cool. I’ll go order.” She stood up, and walked across to the counter.

“What the fuck is happening?” Morgan whispered to her brother. He shook his head, eyes widened in surprise, and gave a very slight shrug.

“I have no clue.” He said back, voice low. “But… I dunno, dude. Something — something isn’t screaming _danger_ at me anymore, and I’m just confused now.”

 _What?_ How did she just… _magically_ become not dangerous?

“She’s not — _how?”_ She asked quietly, staring at Peter in disbelief.

He shrugged again. “I dunno, but I haven’t had any sixth sense-y stuff going on since we got in her car. It’s —“ He glanced up, and she followed his gaze. Katie was returning with a plastic number 29. “— like I feel like I could literally just do _To Kill A Mockingbird_ in this assessment, too, but then Mrs. Winterhalter would be disappointed and I don’t want that, cause she’s one of my favourite teachers.”

“Mm.” Morgan agreed, catching onto the half-pretence (because the thing he was staying was _technically_ true and real), and going along with it. “I’m thinking _Mao’s Last Dancer.”_

“Mao’s Last Dancer?”

“Yeah, Az gave it to me for my birthday last year — said that she read it in year nine, and she made her little sister read it in year nine, and so she had to continue her tradition and make heroccasionally-fake-niece read it.”

“It’s a good book.” Katie commented, putting the number on the edge of the table, and sitting back down. “We did it in eleventh grade — modern history.”

“Cool.” Peter said quietly. Morgan nodded slightly in response, unsure of what to say.

Katie let out a soft laugh. “Look, kids —“

“— _kids? —”_

“I need to come clean about some stuff.” She said. Morgan raised her eyebrows, and leaned forward slightly. Peter crossed his arms on the table. “I’m not the best judge of character, but you guys seem to be, and… I dunno, I’ve heard you talking about how I’m a bit _suspicious —“_

Morgan froze, and she felt her brother do the same beside her.

“— and that’s completely fine, because I _am_ a bit suspicious, and I _have_ been acting weird lately, but… well, it’s not everyday that you find out that your husband is working with alien tech with his friends, and they make and sell illegal weapons, and then he dies, so you keep up his research… and then his friends come and get you to work for them, even though you literally just wanted to know what your husband was trying to do, and then you solve the issue that he spent seven years trying to figure out — and _then_ you meet _Natasha Romanoff,_ who’s been tracking the people you work for, and she offers you a job, at _SHIELD,_ if you give them information, and then you —“ Katie looked up abruptly. “Shit, I just said all of that, didn’t I?”

Morgan opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to think of something to _say_ to that, staring at Katie in genuine shock. “Wow.” She managed to say slowly. “You… you work at SHIELD.”

“Yeah.” Katie gave them both a small smile.

“So I’m guessing you carry weapons and stuff that they give you.” Peter said suddenly. Morgan turned to look at him, and saw the expression of realisation on his face.

 _Right._ Because an unfamiliar person carrying weapons in his house when he had no reason to believe that they would be regulation for her job — definitely the sort of thing that would make her brothers danger senses go off.

Katie grimaced slightly. “Yeah. Quite a few.” She shrugged. I’ve been in SHIELD for three years, so they let me carry a lot of stuff. And I’m their only informant on Andriens project.”

“So they hired you after they rebuilt?” Morgan asked. She was actually pretty intrigued now — _Katie,_ a _SHIELD agent._ That was pretty cool.

“Yeah. Like, quite a bit after, but still after.”

Morgan shook her head in amazement. “That is _so cool.”_ She breathed. “That’s _awesome. So_ awesome, holy _shit!”_

 _“Morgan.”_ Peter rolled his eyes. She poked her tongue out at him, and he swatted her arm in retaliation.

Katie laughed. “I mean, it’s cool, but not as cool as you guys — you dad is _Iron Man,_ and your mom is _Pepper Potts.”_ She lowered her voice significantly, so that no-one could hear her.

“Honestly, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the dad part.” Morgan laughed. “It’s some crazy shit.”

“I can imagine.” Katie nodded, smiling. After a moment, her expression became more serious. “Look, I’d like to apologise.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “For?”

“The way I’ve been acting. I’m… well, I don’t have much experience with kids. And exposing Adrien and his crew has been really stressful, and, well… you hear a lot of chatter, at SHIELD. Not many people know who y’all actually are, so you hear chatter; especially about how you father —“ She nodded to Peter. “— has kept you alive so long. Ive read some of the reports on him from the 2010s, and… yeesh, he was a _mess._ It surprised me how good her is with you guys — and I _know,_ none of that excuses me from how I’ve been acting, so… I’m sorry.”

Morgan shrugged. “Kay.” She said shortly. She didn’t want to go too far into it — because this _completely_ changed her perception of Katie fucking Reed. Katie was an _agent._ Katie was only acting how she did because of stress from her agent stuff, and preconceived ideas of them and their parents. Katie wasn’t actually an awful person.

Her brother was much more hesitant in his reaction. He paused for a moment, then spoke clearly, though still quite quietly. “Does dad know?”

Katie nodded. “Yeah.” She said. “Yeah, it’s how we met. He had to report to me after all the Blizzard stuff back in January. It kind of… well, Natasha kinda set us up after that. She said that we were both middle aged and lonely…. Yeah. Your aunt is a bully.”

“That’s why dad introduced her so weirdly that first day.” Morgan realised. “Why you aways act so weird around Nat. It’s because you aren’t actually _scared_ of her, you _work with her…_ but you have to pretend to be scared of her, like most people would be, so that none realises that you’re a — a _secret agent.”_

“Yeah, basically.” Katie replied, with a short nod. “Yeah. We might even be friends — it’s kind of hard to tell with Romanoff.”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed airily, letting out a small laugh. “You can never really tell. I mean, I can’t remember meeting her, but we knew her as Natalie Rushman for like, a month. Way back before the Avengers.”

Katie laughed. “Yeah. The reports from that encounter are _very_ exclusive — I don’t have clearance to see them, but from what Nat’s said it was quite the mission.”

“Same with dad.” Peter mumbled. “She was a triple agent.”

“Hah. Yeah… I mean, I guess I am too, but I’m nowhere near Natashas level.”

“Yeah, no way.” Morgan said with a quick laugh. “I mean, I’ve only met her a couple times, and she figured out who I was, but… yeah she’s next level.”

“I —“

“Two double shot coffee Frappacinos and an Iced Americano?”

“Thanks.” Katie smiled at the waiter, who carried a tray with three dine in drinks on it. He set the tray down.

“Iced Americano…” Peter laughed — he was probably thinking about the ‘Iced Americano being the Captain America drink’ memes.

“Vell, if it isn’t Captain America.” Morgan supplied, shooting her brother a sneaky grin.

“But it is me..”

“No, it’s an expression —“

“— your Nazi tricks won’t work on me.”

Morgan grinned — at least her brother had culture. “Vell, if it isn’t the man with the giant metal frisbee.” She continued.

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m Captain America.”

“The man with the giant metal frisbee.”

“Captain America is from the forties, but he respects black people _and_ women. Did you see how short he was? He knows their pain.”

Katie was staring at them, looking _very_ confused, but Morgan kept going. “So when you finish training in America, zey give you a trashcan lid?”

“Shut up.”

“Are you ze only one with the trashcan?” Peter gave her a sarcastic glare, and she laughed before she kept going. “Hello Mister Barnes… we are going to take your arm off.”

“I think I just need some help —“

“— give you cool robot arm instead.”

“How did you take down —“

“— what’s happening here?” Katie cut across Peter, still looking _very_ confused.

Morgan burst out laughing. “I — You —“ She broke off for a second to compose herself. “Vine.”

Katie shrugged, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna take it dad hasn’t told you too much about the _‘Pop Culture references’.”_ He air quoted.

“No, no, you and your gen alpha —“

“— technically still gen z…” Morgan murmured.

“Gen z, sorry — you and your _gen z_ pop culture is basically all he talks about. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d never met two people who talk about their kids so much.” Katie laughed, sounding a bit… well, _scared._ “But that — _that_ was _terrifying. Terrifying!”_

Morgan smirked, and took a long sip of her drink. “Welcome to probably the biggest part of gen z culture — even for the very youngest of us; vine.”

“I thought it was TikTok that you kids liked..?”

“No.” Peter said shortly. “No, TikTok is dumb, and it’s nowhere _near_ as good as vine. It sucks, and I hate it.”

 _“Vine,_ on the other hand… well, vine was exquisite.”

**_APRIL 10, 2025, 7:15 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“So… when do we go to moms?” Peter asked his sister, laying on her bed as she painted in the corner.

Morgans shrugged, and kept painting, not turning to look at him. “I’d think Sunday… but who knows. I guess we’ll have to ask dad.”

“Great.” He grumbled. “Lets just hope he hasn’t figured out what happened last night.”

“We’re dead if he does.” His sister agreed.

“Yeah….” Peter considered the consequences, then sat up, grinning. “Dude! If I stole my suit back again… would you wanna come on patrol with me?”

 _That_ made Morgan turn around, and out her paint brush down. “Really? Hell yeah! One hundred percent!”

“Cool.” Peter smiled. “We could go, like… an hour after dinner.”

“Awesome!” Morgan grinned. “That is so _awesome._ I’m gonna go on Patrol with _Spider-Man!”_

“Hell yeah!” Peter grinned, and his sister turned back to keep painting her canvas. “Hey, Mo?”

“Yeah?” She kept painting again — something large and blue.

“Did you notice at Starbucks before that Katie is…”

“That Katie is bi?” She finished for him, swapping to a deep purple colour on a thinner paint brush. “Yeah, I did.”

Peter hummed in agreement. “Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t realise before — the nose ring, the tattoos, the cuffed jeans —“

“— _the Bi bob!”_ Morgan exclaimed. “Holy shit, how didn’t I realise? That haircut is literally how I figured out that Maddie was trying to subtly come out, how — _how didn’t I realise?”_

Peter shrugged. “I dunno. Wow, we’re blind, aren’t we?”

 _“I’m_ blind.” Morgan said. She turned around and pushed her glasses up her nose for emphasis. “You _used_ to be blind. We’re both just fucking unobservant.”

“Mmm. I wonder if she’s out.”

“Probably.” Morgan shrugged. Then, she dropped her paintbrush and spun around suddenly. “Holy shit dude, this could _work!”_

“What —“

“— this could _work —_ like, I feel bad about it, cause she’s actually been super nice today, and it’s just stress from work and preconceived perception of us that she was kinda being a dick — _but,_ there’s still the issue of moms new boyfriend, and to get rid of _him —“_

“— the best way to do it would be getting her and dad back together.” Peter realised, catching on to Morgans idea. “And to do that, he and Katie would need to break up… so we need to get her out of the closet, and with a woman. It works well for _everyone!_ ”

“Yes!” Morgan exclaimed. “This kills like, four birds with one stone! Get someone to come out, get dad single again, get rid of moms mystery dude, get mom and dad back together.”

“Holy fuck, this could actually _work!”_ Peter. exclaimed. “Shit dude, that would be _awesome!”_

“What would be awesome?”

Katie was standing, holding Morgans bedroom door open. Peter silently cursed his stupid powers — that for some reason weren’t consistently at the same intensity; they could go from normal ‘perfect’ senses, to sensory overload, ‘fuck, I can hear and feel and smell and taste literally everything in existence’, and the inconsistency was _very_ irritating.

And it definitely would’ve been helpful to realise that Katie was _right there_ when they were talking about her… and her probably closeted sexuality.

Fuck.

“Uh — just if we got to make a cool room like this one with mom.” Peter improvised. Katie smiled.

“God, I forgot that you guys are going to your moms on Sunday.”

“So it’s Sunday?” He asked.

Katie shrugged. “That’s what Tony says. Apparently your moms been telling him _all_ about how crazy being alone is making her —“

“— I mean, she has Azzy…”

“Exactly.” Katie laughed. “Your dads been stressing about how he’s gonna survive a whole week without you.”

“Thats cute.” Morgan smiled. “So… what’s up?”

“Oh! Dinner — he ordered Pizza.”

“Ah.” Peter observed. “That’ll be him trying to spoil us and be the ‘cool dad’ so that we’ll hang out with him before we go to moms.”

“Still pizza though.” Morgan said, wrapping up her paint palette and standing up. “Ill come if there’s pizza involved.”

“I mean, me too.” Peter laughed.

He was excited though — not only for the Katie thing, but for _patrol._

 _That_ was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok yall yall yall this isnt that important BUT... AIM is real! Its the australian insitute of management and holy shit i almost had a heart attack when i realised that rhere was actually something called AIM!!!!
> 
> anyway i just felt the need to inform everyone of that have a nice week :)
> 
> also sorry that ths took so long ive been really busy xx happy late halloween


	12. PART ELEVEN

**_APRIL 12, 2025, 2:43 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan flew into her window silently, keeping her mask down, just in case — coming in through a window in the middle of the night was the reason that their dad and Peter had argued all those weeks ago, and if she was fully suited up, he wouldn’t see her; she didn’t want to argue with her father _already._

For the second time, she and Peter had patrolled together. When they went on Friday night, their dad had been down in the lab, according to Peter, and they got back before he dragged them downstairs to watch movies.

He was most definitely trying to get as much bonding time in as he could before she and Peter went to their moms in the afternoon.

On Saturday, they hadn’t seen Katie at all, even though Morgan and Peter had _both_ been sent texts when they woke up telling them to have fun with their dad all day — nice Katie was kind of jarring, but Morgan actually liked her quite a bit now…

… and now she felt bad for her initial thoughts of the woman — even though she’d felt that way for a reason, and Katie was very understanding of the fact that she’d been acting like a bitch until Friday.

Saturday was fun; their dad dressed up incognito, and they all went out for the day. Then, once Peter had determined that their dad had fallen asleep in the lab, they went out patrolling again.

And so now, they’re just getting home.

She quickly got out of her suit, after she was sure that her dad was hidden in her room somewhere to catch her, and folded it back down to a fake copy of _To Kill A Mockingbird._ Morgan quickly ran across the hall, to Peters room, and opened the window. She looked behind her for a moment — she wasn’t really sure why, but she did — and then sent a thumbs up out the window.

Her brother swung in a moment later, and ripped his mask off, grinning at her. “Hey Mo, miss me?”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I saw you less than a minute ago, dude.”

“Exactly.” Peter pressed the button on the front of the suit, and turned away from her, pulling a grey sweater over his head as he did so. “It must have been traumatising for you. Almost a whole minute — I honestly don’t know how you survived.”

“Oh, it was just _horrible.”_ Morgan said sarcastically. “It was really _awful_ having thirty seconds of peace, without you talking my ear off.”

“Truly _heart breaking_ for you.” Peter smirked, and turned back around, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from his bed and pulling them on. Morgan was glad that she wore pyjamas under her suit.

“Very much so.” Morgan laughed, and flopped down on her bed. She waited for a minute, before propping herself up on one elbow, and looking at Peter. “Dude.”

He sat down on his chair, and spun around a bit. “What’s up, dude?”

“Have you ever thought about your name?” She asked. Peters eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she kept talking. “So… like, I’m Morgan May Potts; MMP — middle name is May, after our aunt, right?”

“Right?” Peter asked.

“And you’re Peter James Stark — after Uncle Rhodey, Right?”

“Right?” Her brother confirmed, with a small nod.

Morgan smirked. “So, your initials are PJS — Peter James Stark, PJS. Your name is pjs. You, my dearest brother, are quite literally named _pyjamas.”_

Peter looked down, sadly, and nodded. “Yeah — yeah, I know. It’s sad.”

Morgan burst out laughing, and rolled back over to lay on her back and laugh harder. _“Pyjamas._ My brothers name is _pyjamas!”_

She turned over to look over at her brother for a moment, and saw him looking up at her, his eyes wide and surprised.

“What bro?”

 _“Dude!”_ Peter exclaimed. “At one point, your name wasn’t your name.”

Morgan sat up abruptly — somehow, _somehow,_ by _some_ miracle, she understood that. Her name, up until Peter and her dad moved to New York, would have been _Morgan May Stark,_ rather than _Morgan May Potts._ “Holy _shit!”_ She said. “Holy shit, my name didn’t used to be my name! My last name used to literally be _Stark!”_

“Morgan Stark…” Peter tested. “Honestly, I thought it would sound weirder out loud than it does.”

Morgan shrugged. “Kinda does, though.” She sat back up, so she was cross legged on the bed. “And, no offence dude, but I wouldn’t change it back. I’ve been Morgan Potts as long as I can remember — I _am_ Morgan Potts.”

Her brother froze for a second, and then put on a strangely cocky smirk — for him. “And the truth is… I am Iron Man.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a bitch, Pete.”

“Oh my dearest sister, I apologise!”

“Shut up, dude.” She rolled her eyes, and started to leave her brothers room. “I would start getting the shit that you need for moms together if I were you, cause dad’s dropping us to our apartment at lunch, and we’re gonna go get Thai with mom and Az.”

“We’re gonna need a new cover story to include me, then.” Peter grumbled.

Morgan snorted, standing in the doorway. “It’ll be fine, dude. We’ll just say that you were like… very very sick for the last month or something — I don’t reckon Sunan’ll question it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Morgan smirked. “Night, bro.”

“Night, Mo! Love you!”

“Love you too!” She whisper called over her shoulder, as she crossed the hall into her own bedroom.

**_APRIL 12, 2025, 12:42 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Dad.” Peter poked his fathers arm, making the man jump slightly. He rolled his eyes. “Dad, what is _up with you?_ Why are you acting so weird?”

His dad frowned, and shook his head. “Nothings up with me, Pete. I’m not acting weird.”

“Right.” Peter said, disbelievingly. He shot Morgan a quick, pointed look, and the elevator dinged.

Their dad froze again, and both he and his sister had to drag him out of the elevator while he came back into full consciousness.

“Dad.” Morgan said blandly. “It’s fine — like, I’m pretty sure you’re freaking out about mom, but it’s fine. You don’t even have to talk to her if you don’t wanna — we can get in ourselves if we really want to; I have a key.”

“And mom said she has a key to give me now!” Peter added quickly.

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.” Their dad said, giving them small smiles. “Nothing is weird here — I’m just doing what should have been done twelve years ago and dropping my children off at their moms for the week. No biggie.”

“That’s the spirit!” Peters sister grinned, and punched their dad lightly on the shoulder. “Gonna miss you this week, old man!”

Well. At least his sister wasn’t having trouble becoming comfortable with their dad — and she was able to joke with their father the same way that he did.

His dad smiled at Morgan, and patted her shoulder. “You too, kid.”

“Ouch.” Peter muttered. “It’s like I’ve turned invisible — love you too, dad. _‘Oh, Pete, light of my life, I’ll miss you so much, o’ child that I raised. I don’t know how ill survive an entire seven days without you!’_ ” He mimicked his dads voice, earning a chuckle from the man.

“I _will_ miss you, kid.” The older man took a deep breath, and stepped forward. He knocked on the door of the penthouse, somewhat hesitantly, then held his breath as he waited for it to be opened.

The door swung open after only a moments wait, and Peter heard his dad start breathing regularly again. His mom was standing in the doorway, he face breaking into a grin when she saw Peter and Morgan.

“Hey, mom!” Peter and Morgan said together, unintentionally — the damn ‘speaking in sync’ twin stereotype thing, however real it was, was actually really annoying.

“Hey, guys!” Their mom exclaimed, then she continued, a bit more awkwardly. “Hi, Tony.”

“Pep..” Their dad said, giving her an equally awkward smile. Peter and his sister exchanged a glance, and the dad cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “Alrightly — kids made it her alive, I’ll just — can I just have a minute to say good bye?”

“Sure.” Peters mom shrugged.

She stood back back for a moment, and so Peters dad turned around to face him and Morgan directly. She smiled sort of sadly. “Well, I’m gonna have to go in a minute, so… bye.”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled slightly, then wrapped his arms around his dad in a hug.

One of his dads arms tightened around him, and the other pulled Morgan into the hug. They stood there for a moment, and then Peter felt his dad kiss his temple lightly. Then, he let go of them both.

Their dad smiled again. “Okay. Bye, guys.”

“Bye dad!” Peter and his sister said at the same time again.

He gave them a small nod, and got back into the elevator behind him. Their dad gave a small wave as the door closed. Peter heard his dad let out a small, teary-sounding cough as the elevator dropped away.

Peter felt a bit bad for him, because he _knew_ that it would be weird for his dad, being completely alone in their house… _but_ it did mean that he got to live with his mom _and_ his sister for a week, which was cool.

“Okay!” His mom grinned, pulling him into a quick hug as he walked into the penthouse, then hugging Morgan when she walked in behind him. “Az’ll be here in five, so Mo, dump your shit in your room — Pete, come with me.”

Morgan ran down the hallway, to her bedroom, and his mom led him to a spare room across from Morgans. It had basic furniture that he’d chosen when they went to IKEA already built. Peter dropped his bag on the bed, and grinned at his mom.

She smiled. “This is yours — there’s a bathroom through that door, you can do whatever you want with all this… yeah. Tell me if you want a new paint colour, or if you need more bedding, or — literally anything, kay?”

Peter engulfed her in a hug, and she rested her chin on top of his head — wow, his mom was tall. “Thanks, mom.” He murmured. She let go of him, and ruffled his hair, smiling at him.

“Its absolutely fine, hon. Anything you need, okay?”

“Okay!”

She started to close the door behind her. “Ill… give you some time to set up in here. Be ready in five minutes, okay?”

“Definitely!

**_APRIL 12, 2025, 1:26 PM — SUNANS THAI, CENTRAL MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Okay, so… what do I do here?” Peter asked, frowning slightly as he looked at the Thai place in front of him.

His mom smiled, and pulled him into a side hug. “You’re you, but you we’re staying back with your grandad and your… well, technically _step_ grandma, back in New Jersey, for a little while because of… stuff. Just say it’s personal.”

“Cool!” He gave her finger guns. “Awesome! Let’s go eat!”

Azzy pulled the door of the restaurant open, and Peter walked in first, quickly followed by his mom and his sister. He stood awkwardly next to Morgan, hoping that Sunan wouldn’t notice or like… _question_ them.

The man greeted them all just as he had last time, but he paused when he got to Peter. “Hello?” He asked, and he just sounded really fucking confused. “I don’t think we’ve, uh… met. Call me Sunan.”

“I’m — I’m Peter.” He said quickly, holding a hand out to the man, somewhat hesitantly.

Sunan smiled, and shook his hand. “So… what’re you doing with the Johnson and Miss Hannaye, son?”

“Soon to be Mrs Spooney!” Azzy interrupted, waving the fake ring on her left hand in front of the man again.

“Yes, yes, yes!” The man laughed, leading them to a booth in the corner. “Soon to be _Mrs Spooney._ That doesn’t explain who this young man is, Miss ‘soon to be Mrs Spooney’ Hannaye.”

“Savage, Sunan.” Morgan smirked, and sat in the corner of the booth. Peter sat across from his sister, feeling a bit awkward. Morgan just shrugged, though, and saved them. “Also, yeah, he’s my brother. He was staying back with Grandma and Grandpa for a couple months because of some…”

Morgan tailed off, her voice breaking a little bit — damn, she was good at this acting stuff — and Peter followed suit, looking away for a second and making tears appear in his eyes. He wiped them away once he was sure that the man had seen them. “It’s just, uh… some stuff that, uh… happened. Yeah.”

“We don’t talk about that stuff.” Peter heard Azzy whisper to the man, and he ducked his head, just to really _sell it._

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Sunan whispered sympathetically. Peter lifted his head, hoping that his eyes were red now. “Okay well… I’ll be back in a bit for your orders!”

“Thanks, Sunan!” Peters mom smiled, and they started to look at menus.

Morgan sighed in relief. “He bought it.” She whispered. “Thank Fuck —“

“— _блядь_ , Morgan, we don’t want to scar all these poor, innocent citizens with your awful language.”

_[Fuck]_

His sister rolled her eyes. “Послушай, брат, мы с тобой оба знаем, что любые русские здесь знают, что ебать означает _fuck_ , поэтому исправлять меня и ругаться на другом языке на самом деле никому не помогает.”

_[Look, brother, you and I both know that any Russians here know that fuck means fuck, so correcting me and swearing in a different language isn't really helping anyone.]_

“Я серьезно сомневаюсь, что здесь есть русские, Морган.” He shot back, ignoring the strange expressions on his moms and Azzys faces. “А если и есть, то процент эмоциональных травм, вызванных ругательством, гораздо ниже, потому что в Америке определенно больше людей говорят по-английски, чем по-русски. И, если русский случайно услышит, как я говорю «ебать» по-русски, то они могут отвалить.”

_[I seriously doubt that there are any Russian people in here, Morgan. And if there are, it's a much lower percentage of emotional scarring being caused by hearing a swear word, because there are definitely more people in America that speak English than Russian. And, if a Russian does happen to hear me say fuck, in Russian, then they can fuck off.]_

“друг, отвали. Перестань быть умной задницей.”

_[Man, fuck off. Stop being a smart ass.]_

“Хорошо, да ладно.”

_[Fine, whatever.]_

_“What,”_ Azzy whispered loudly, sitting next to Morgan. “And I cannot stress this enough — _the fuck.”_

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Я учу русский язык — мы вам об этом говорили, когда все обедали в отцовском доме.”

_[I am learning Russian — we told you this when we all had dinner at fathers house.]_

“Something about a _Ruskey,_ and a _govilla?”_ Azzy slummed back in her seat. “You gotta give me something to work with here, Mo — you’ve never spoked Russian before.”

“She told you that she’s learning Russian, and that we told y’all that when we all ate at dads.” Peter explained. “Before that, we were arguing about which language we should be swearing in.”

“Well that’s normal.” Azzy muttered sarcastically. “Seriously mate, this is just like — why the fuck did you have to learn _Russian,_ of all things?”

Morgan shrugged. “Auntie Nat taught Peter, so I had to learn to impersonate him.”

“Right, right, course she did… who’s Auntie Nat?”

“Take one guess, Az — who does Tony know called nat?” Peter mom added, barely glancing up from her menu as she spoke.

 _“Natasha Romanoff_ taught you _Russian?”_ Azzy exclaimed in surprise.

“Shhhh!” Peter hushed her, glancing around to make sure no-one heard them, before talking quietly. “Yeah — yeah, she did — we told you that at dinner, too.”

“Right, right, yeah…” She muttered. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just still… _processing —_ I don’t think I was fully conscious of what happened when we ate food that _Tony Stark_ made, at _Tony Starks_ house, when I found out that Morgan was not only _Pepper Potts_ daughter, but _Tony Starks_ as well, and that she has a _twin brother_ who was pretending to be her.”

“Az definitely hasn’t figured it out yet.” Their mom laughed, putting her menu down. “I’m going to get the _Kao Moo Dang —_ what would you all like?”

“Massaman curry, please!” Morgan ginned at their mother.

“I’ll have that too, actually,” Peter added. “That looks _good.”_

“Yeah, and I’ll have the vegan Pad Thai, as long as we split it.”

“Azzy —“ Peter mom rolled her eyes. “Which one of us is literally rich? I can pay.”

“We have this argument every single time, Pepper! No!”

“Yes!”

_“Pepper —“_

_“Azmariah —“_

_“Virginia —“_

_“Don’t —“_ Their mom warned. “Do _not_ call me _Virginia,_ Az. We don’t do that here.”

“Oof.” Peter whispered to his sister across the table. “Are they like this a lot?”

“Every single time that we get food.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “They both need to chill — they always end up splitting, but mom argues every time, and Az always wins.”

“I was raised to win arguments.” Azzy added, before turning back to the older woman. “And so, like always, I’ll win this, and you’ll let me pay for _my food —_ you pay me enough for me to be able to afford it, mate, so just let me.”

Their mom glared at Azzy, then sighed. “Fine. We’ll split.”

Azzy winked. “You’re a mad cunt, Pep.”

“Impulsive swearing.” Morgan commentated. “She’s been trying to stop it, but she can’t help it sometimes.”

The other woman rolled her eyes. “Ill have you know, _Morgan,_ that _mad cunt_ is the highest compliment and acknowledgement of friendship back where I’m from. So fuck off.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that.” Peter said suddenly. He tilted his head to the side slightly. “Why did you move here in the first place? Like, Americas _really_ fucked; Australia seems like a much easier place to live in. Why move?”

Azmariah shrugged, and leaned forward a bit. “A lot of reasons, actually. Mainly just to spice things up, I guess. It was 2013, so it was before Trump and everything, so I thought I’d have normal rights… and I guess I just had enough of being back home. I go back a lot, and I love it there, but I just… I just vibe with here now.”

“Huh.” Was all Peter could say.

“Plus,” Azzy added, as a bit of a side note. “I don’t get dead named here, y’know? Pretty sure everyone here just assumes that I’m cis.”

“Huh.” He repeated.

“I guess Mozzie didn’t tell you, huh?” Az grinned awkwardly, and started to ramble a bit. “Yeah. I mean, that’s fine — I don’t really — like, I’m a girl. I’m a female. I just wasn’t born as the right gender. And I guess a lot of people back home just weren’t… used to that, back in like, 2006, when I came out, so they kept calling me Lazarus, and like — well, mum and dad — yes, that’s mum with a _u,_ psycho, unable to spell normally Americans — mum and dad were super cool with it… actually, my mum was super excited, helped we with names and stuff — and honestly, if I were to acquire a son somehow, I’d probably give him my deadname as a middle name, because I reckon it’s a pretty cool name, it just isn’t _my_ name, and it was my Grandads name — but like, a lot of people just didn’t know how to react to me not being cis, so here was just like, a fresh start, y’know?”

“You’re really cool.” Peter whispered. Azzy grinned at him. “Just to clarify, you’re she/her, right?”

“Yep. She/her.”

“Cool. Well, I’m he/him, and I — I just think that you’re really cool. It must’ve been hard before they voted Trump out.”

Azzy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, being an immigrant, trans, aggressively bi woman of colour was not fun back then. But, it’s cool with life now, and at least the politicians aren’t too concentrated on the fact that people get torn to pieces by crocs every three months in Queensland to think about gay marriage.”

“What?”

“It’s a —“ Azzy cut herself off, shaking her head. “Never mind; it’s just old 2010s Aussie politicians — y’all wouldn’t get it.”

Peter shrugged. “Does that actually happen?”

“I mean, I guess? Crocs are pretty lethal. A lot of stuff is deadly, actually — that’s why they made Deadly 60.”

“What’s —“

“Shhhh!” Azzy cut him off, leaning her forehead on her and in apparent pain. “Just — please don’t. I’ll refrain from forcing you to watch Mortified if you stop talking about your lack of knowledge.”

“Whats —“

“Peter, seriously, don’t ask her. She _will_ make you watch Mortified and Round the Twist with her, and you’ll be super confused, and it’ll just be a train wreck.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Maybe I _do_ wanna watch old Australian TV with Azzy, _Mo —_ Maybe I’ll watch it with her and she’ll force you to watch with us.”

“Yes!” Azzy laughed, sounding a little bit insane.

“No, no, please —“

“Join us.” Peter whispered. “Присоединяйтесь к нам. Присоединяйтесь к нам. Присоединяйтесь к нам.”

_[Join us. Join us. Join us.]_

“Please, I’m innocent, don’t do this to me!” Morgan started speaking in an over-exaggerated old English accent. “Please! You have the wrong man!”

“Oh no.” Peter shook his head. “We have the right man — she’s gonna watch Australian TV with us, isn’t she Az?”

“Nah yeah.” Azzy smirked. “Have you ever? Ever felt like this?”

“Noooo!”

“Have strange things happened? Are you going round the twist?”

Peter had no idea what was happening, but he was loving it.

“Oh, or even better!” Azzy stopped, and started singing a different song. “Can someone tell me what is going on? Cause I don’t understand — there must be somewhere I belongggg —“

“Can I get your orders now, ladies? And… man.”

“And that’s on songs that in-the-closet me related to way too much.” Azzy whispered.

Peter hadn’t actually realised that Sunan was there (thanks again, annoyingly selective super hearing).His mom nodded. “Yeah — can we pleas get two Massaman curries, a Began Pad Thai, and a Kao Moo Dang?”

“Yep, anything else?”

Their mom glanced around the table, and when none of them answered, shook her head. “No, we’re good thanks.”

“You’re food will be out soon.” The waiter left again.

“Mm.” Azzy said as soon as Sunan left. “Just glad my parents didn’t sell undies.”

“… is that a reference?” Peter asked.

“Yeah!” Azzy smiled. “Yes it is! Good one — parents in Mortified sold undies for a living. And I mean… well, every sane person had a crush on Leon as a kid.”

Morgan cringed, and Peter laughed. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it was fun.” Azmariah smirked. “Very fun — not as fun as the dream of living in a lighthouse like they did in Round the Twist. Or as fun as the identity crisis that Mortified gave me when I thought I was adopted because of episode one, before I realised that I was actually a woman.”

“Also sounds fun.”

“Oh, so much of it!”

**_APRIL 12, 2025, 9:44 PM — CARPARK NEAR FLUSHING BAY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

The man with the crowbar lunged at him, away from the car that he was trying too steal, and Peter almost laughed — amateur move.

“Look man, stealing cars is fun and all, but I’d rather not get beaten to death with a crowbar tonight, so lets not do that, right?”

The man swiped at him with the crowbar again, and Peter jumped away, with the help of his spider sense. He rolled his eyes. “Ooookay, I guess we’re doing this, then. Bring it!”

The guy kept trying to hit him, and Peter kept jumping away. “Hey, Karen? Can you get facial recognition?”

“Of course, Peter.” The AI said in his ear. “Running facial recognition — matched with John Karles; out of prison on parole for good behaviour.”

“Cool.” Peter dodged again. “Cool. Are comms up?”

“Yes. And, I should probably add that your father will likely notice that the suit has been taken, as per the baby monitor protocol.”

“Right, yeah, course he will. Oh well — Eclipse, you there?”

_“Hi, yeah, coming up there now — was just sorting out the cops down here.”_

“Cool. This dude’s trying to kill me with a heavy metal object, so I might need some backup.”

_“Yeeeeah, be there in a sec.”_

“Thanks, dude.” The crowbar came down in front of him, and Peter caught it before it could hit him. He started talking louder to the criminal dude. “Okay, John. Why’re you stealing cars while your on patrol, man? I’m not vining with that.”

“Please —“ whack of the crowbar. “— shut —“ another whack. “— up —” another whack. “— Spider —“ whack. “— Man.”

Peter jumped to the roof, and kept avoiding the mans ongoing attacks. “Sorry dude, just like — chill a bit. Please. And — о, бля, это _пистолет_.”

_[Oh, fuck, that is a gun.]_

_“Did you just say a_ gun!?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, dude — I’ll have it sorted in a minute.” He flipped down, and started webbing _John Karles_ down to the floor. “Look, I’m super sorry, but I’ve gotta wrap this up.”

“I hate you.” John Karles muttered.

“Love you too.” Peter grinned. “Eclipse, you’re up.”

Morgan appeared, still basically invisible, and punched the guy, hard enough for him to stop struggling against the webs. Peter picked up the dropped gun with his foot, and kicked it away, webbing it to the floor.

“Thanks bro.” Peter breathed, flipping back onto the ceiling.

“All good, girl; I got your back.”

“You’re insane.” He laughed, as his sisters face plate flipped up.

“Shut up, dude — you became a superhero vigilante person too.” She crossed her arms defensively.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lets not concentrate on that part —“

“— _double standards —“_ she muttered.

“— and let’s call the cops instead of dwelling on technicalities.”

_“Subject avoidance.”_

“Oh, shut up.” Peter rolled his eyes, and called 911 on his phone. He started talking in a deep voice as soon as they started. “Yes, hello, this is Spider-Man — yes, there’s a man here, corner of 32nd avenue and 104th street, that was just trying to steal a car. He’d webbed down, so he’ll be stuck here for three hours or so… Bye!”

He hung up, and tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, its like, ten to nine — we should prolly head home, so we’re not back too late… something tells me mom is a lot less of a ‘passing out in the lab from exhaustion’ person than dad, so it’ll be harder to convince her that she was having a weird dream.”

Morgan snorted. “You’re weird… But yeah, it’s probably a good idea.

“Yeah, yeah, no need to bully me, Eclipse. We gotta go before the cops get here.”

“You’re saying that like we’ve committed a crime, dude — I’m pretty sure we’re not the criminals in this situation.” She rolled her eyes.

“And _you’re_ still _very_ new to this gig, so I’d like… listen to the one with lots of _experience_ in having a secret Identity.”

“Ah, yes, the man who managed to out himself to Iron Man, not only as Spider-Man, but as a teenage boy pretending to be his sister so that he could meet his mom.”

“Details.” Peter waved his hand dismissively, and shot aa web away from where they were standing. “Alright, bye — meet me on the roof?”

“Kay.” Morgan started to hover as he pulled himself up into the air, and then she shot into the sky after him. _“See you on the roof.”_ She said, speaking through the comms.

“Race ya, jerk!”

_“You’re on, bitch.”_

**_APRIL 13, 2025, 5:14 AM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Her ability to somehow get stuck deep within the void that was the internet never ceased to amaze Morgan — much like how her phone never ceased to lure her in.

She had spent yet _another_ night aimlessly scrolling through various media platforms, rather than sleeping. Again.

Like the damn idiot that she was. _She was an idiot._

But…. well, the stuff that she was seeing _was_ kind of helpful — for example, the latest thing that she’d found on twitter:

**_no i was in admin with cyan_ ** _@redurvsus·Apr 12, 2025_

_hi y’all are we just not gonna talk about the fact that spider-man has an accomplice now or like nah? Because honestly we stan so much I have no idea who the mirrors person is but they make me feel h a p p i n e s s_

**_no i was in admin with cyan_ ** _@redurvsus·Apr 12, 2025_

@spidersstan _pls help me dude do u have any proof of spiders mirror friends existence?????_

And… yes. Apparently people knew of her superhero identity now, even if it her hero gig was still very new. And yes, her brother had _fans._ There were _fan accounts_ for him — people so obsessed with Spider-Man that they would go to his regular patrol areas to try get footage of him.

It was kind of hilarious — and if their parents knew, they would both absolutely _die —_ which just made it all the much more funny.

Surprisingly, though, the Spider-Fan (yes, that’s what they called themselves. Spider-Fans.) featured in the particular thread that she’d stumbled upon had some pretty solid material — even if whoever they were was definitely insane.

**_the disaster that is spider-man_ ** _@spidersstan·Apr 13, 2025_

@redurvsus _hello hello yes spiderman has a new friend guys :)_

 **_the disaster that is spider-man_ ** _@spidersstan·Apr 13, 2025_

_we don’t know who this person is like at all (idk) BUT they were first seen out with spidey on friday (literally two days ago). All we rlly know is that their suit (or like… whatever it is that they wear cuz its hard to see them) is made of retro reflective panels._

**_the disaster that is spider-man_ ** _@spidersstan·Apr 13, 2025_

 _my dude_ @sendtacosimsad _said that they saw the persons retro reflective panels turn off and that without reflection their suit was like a plain silver iron man suit… so do with that what you will :)_

 **_the disaster that is spider-man_ ** _@spidersstan·Apr 13, 2025_

 _alsooo according to_ @gre_enie _spidey and their friend stopped them from being mugged last night and that the new superhero/vigilante/whatever idk is called eclipse (idk that’s what they said spidey called the new friend), and that spidey refereed to eclipse with she/her pronouns_

 **_the disaster that is spider-man_ ** _@spidersstan·Apr 13, 2025_

 _so basically_ @redurvsus _yes eclipse is real here’s a video of them (maybe her???) n spidey from last night — thanks_ @letthemburn _for the video [video attached]_

Morgan let out a quiet laugh, at the fact that these people were so obsessed with like… _watching them._ It was kind of weird.

She kept looking down the thread, because she really had nothing better to do with her life right now. At _all._

**_LeTs OvErThRoW tHe PaTriAchY_ ** _@helpineedchickennuggets·Apr 13, 2025_

_yessssss omg i love them now is #spideyclipse a thing????? We stannnnnnn_

**_LIKE ZOINKS DUDE_ ** _@iamTHEALLPOWERFUL_SHAGGY·Apr 13, 2025_

_holy fucking shit yessssssss dude holy fuck #spideyclipse for the fucking win that would be such a cool couple!!!!!!_

**_LIKE ZOINKS DUDE_ ** _@iamTHEALLPOWERFUL_SHAGGY·Apr 13, 2025_

_omg they’ve literally coexisted for like two days and now I love them ahhhhhhhhshbdaievcoudclnalkncpiehfcbdsjbc_

Holy why did _everyone_ on the internet want her to _date_ her _brother —_ both in the context of 'Tony Starks son and Pepper Potts daughter’, and _now_ as Spider-Man and Eclipse.

Great. Just great. Just _fucking great —_ it was weird on _so many_ levels. In _so many_ ways.

And then there was… there was also their dad. Their dad, who was probably going to find out — she was absolutely _certain_ that he had the sort of tech that would alert him to people mentioning her or Peter on social media, which would’ve now extended to Spider-Man, too.

Which was super annoying, because now, they were going to get _busted._ Just. Great.

She kept going through the tweets about Eclipse and Spider-Man. Morgan and her brother.

**_in this house we love draco malfoy redemption_ ** _@dracodeservedbetter·Apr 13, 2025_

 _okay alright now i need to know_ @avengersofficial _i know you’ve said that you don’t know spider-mans identity but do you know if #spideyclipse is real??? like I don’t even want their real identities but like I just wanna know if they’re datingggggg :)))_

**_I Joined The Super Secret Boy Band_ ** _@TheRealTonyStark·Apr 13, 2025_

 _I’m not_ @avengersofficial _but Spider-Man better bet his ass that he’s not sating Eclipse, if they are who I think they are._

Ah, yes. There it was. Their father had figured it out.

Fucking hell, they were screwed. Absolutely. Fucking. Screwed. Their dad was gonna kill them. Their mom was gonna kill them. _Both_ of their parents were gonna kill them — because she had _two parents_ now, and they were both going to kill her, and they were also gonna kill the _brother_ that she’d somehow acquired now.

Fuck. Fuck, her and Peter were gonna get _murdered._

There was one meow addition, though, and — yes. It made all of it _so much_ better.

**_a potato flew around my room_ ** _@ahhhhhhhHHhhhhhhhhHhh·Apr 13, 2025_

@TheRealTonyStark _why the fuck are you awake at 3:17 in the morning dude the fuck you’re over the age of 25 don’t old people sleep??_

**_I Joined The Super Secret Boy Band_ ** _@TheRealTonyStark·Apr 13, 2025_

_So I guess I’m old now. That’s just great._

**_a potato flew around my room_ ** _@ahhhhhhhHHhhhhhhhhHhh·Apr 13, 2025_

_o h s h i t w h a t h a v e i d o n e_

That was a good thing — some random had called her dad old. Amazing. Exquisite. Her crops were watered, her skin was cleared, and her hotel was trivago. Someone had both called her father out for his constant lack of sleep, _and_ called him old. Whoever _a potato flew around my room_ was, they had some serious balls. What a queen.

Morgan threw her phone down on her bed, and leaned back, letting out a long sigh.

Their dad knew. Knew that Peter had snuck his suit away with him, and had been patrolling. Probably knew that Morgan was Eclipse. Knew what they’d been doing… and he would tell their mom, and their parents would be super angry, and then —

— oh _fuck,_ this was _not_ gonna end well. At all. In any way.

Morgan considered going over to her brothers room for a second, before she thought better of it — just in case he was asleep, and she woke him up.

 _Instead,_ she decided to dive back into the shit show that was twitter — specifically to explore _#spideyclipse_ more, since it was been about four hours since it became a thing, and now —

— now there were 93 new tweets about it. Cool… and one in particular stood out to her.

**_AnD pEgGy_ ** _@letthemburn·Apr 13, 2025_

 _holy jesus guys did y’all see how_ @TheRealTonyStark _reacted to someone asking about #spideyclipse ??? like yalll that rEaCtiOn what is spider-man is his kid that he won’t let anyone know about??? yalll !!!!_

That was worrying. That was _very_ worrying. It was way too correct for Morgan to feel comfortable with it…

Should they just like, get their parents to let them out themselves as Stark and Potts to the world? That seemed like it would be so much easier — even if their parents had just let the world know that they had two children together when they were born, their lives would be so much easier.

But that hadn’t happened, and so she had two things that she needed to do — excluding the finding Katie a girlfriend thing, because there were more pressing matters to tend to now. She needed to talk to Peter, and she needed to text their dad.

She would have to wait until it was socially acceptable for her to be awake, though. Which was annoying. 

Morgan decided the safest way to go would be to text her brother — just to see if he was awake. If he didn’t reply, he was asleep, and she’d wait until morning. If not, she’d go over to the guest — _his_ room, it was _his room_ now, and she’d show him everything she’d found.

And then they could both crisis about it together. Super fun stuff.

**_MORGAN:_ ** _hello my dude are u awake_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i have words to say to u if you are :)_

Morgan waited for a minute, before her brother replied to her.

**_PETER:_ ** _hello indeed i am alive_

 **_PETER:_ ** _what is up bro_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _gimme a minute girl_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _im coming to ur room_

Morgan dropped her phone back down on her bed, and left her room, and went across to her brothers room.

She went and sat in the corner, and leant her head back, letting out another loud sigh.

Peter was sitting cross legged on his bed, with what looked likea web shooter and a screwdriver in his hands. He put them down on his bedside table when he saw her, and grinned. “Hey, Mo. What’s up?”

Morgan groaned. “Ugh. We. Are. Screwed.”

“Why are we screwed?” He asked. “What happened? Are you okay? Am _I_ okay? Is someone in our house trying to murder us?”

“No-ones currently trying to murder, but I can say with complete confidence that they will want to kill us by the end of the day.”

“What, they gonna come kill at school or something?”

“No, dude — one of them is in our house, _right now.”_

Peter looked _very_ confused. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, Morgan — dude I — this might be the sleep deprivation, but I can’t hear anyone in here, other than us and mom, and — oh.”

Morgan nodded gravely. “Yeah.”

“Oh _shit.”_

“My thoughts exactly.”

“How’d she find out? Dude!” Peter raked a hand through his hair, his eyes widening. “Did — do they know about you being Eclipse, or just me stealing back my suit?”

Morgan shrugged. “I’ve gotta assume that dad knows about Eclipse, too — here, read these.” She went back to the original tweets that she’d been reading, and passed her phone to her brother. He read through them, and then his face dropped.

“Shit.”

“Mmhmm.”

He groaned. “For fucks sake, why does everyone want us to date? What the actual fuck guys — just like — _why?”_

“Yeah, dude. I know.” She rolled her eyes, slumping further into her corner. “It’s horrifying. Literally, I’m considering asking mom and dad to just have a press conference and stop the rumours by telling everyone that we’re twins.”

Her brother nodded. “Yeah. That’s prolly a good idea — like, I get that it might’ve been bad when we were little, and couldn’t protect ourselves, _but_ we’re both literal hero people now, so I _think_ we’d be okay.”

“So what — the new plan is to forget about Katie for a bit and just get mom and dad to tell everyone that Moms daughter and Dads son are twins?” Morgan asked her brother — because it did sound a _tiny_ bit like wishful thinking.

Peter laughed loudly, and she looked up, to see her brother still staring at her phone. “Dude, they might have to tell people know anyway — good news, though, moms awake!”

“Yeah, I’d say she would be — she has an online meeting with the China, Hong Kong and Sydney lines of SI at six.”

He snorted again. “Well, she just did this.” He stood, and joined her in the corner. Peter gave her phone back, open on a tweet. “Read it — I think they’re gonna have to say something now; she’s basically confirmed that we’re related.”

Morgan looked at her phone, and laughed. Wow, her parents really just did that.

**_Twelve Percent My Company_ ** _@PepperPottsCEO·Apr 13, 2025_

@TheRealTonyStark _They better not have._

“Well, that was definitely impulsive anger tweeting — that’s not moms usual style. She doesn’t usually do things impulsively.” Morgan laughed. “That was a really dad thing to do.”

Peter shoved her, also laughing. “Well, at least it’s kind of on both of them.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Our entire _existence_ is on both of them — there’s no way that this isn’t on them — wait, she added something else! Holy shit, Pete, mom has gone _insane —_ this is _so_ not like _mom.”_

**_Twelve Percent My Company_ ** _@PepperPottsCEO·Apr 13, 2025_

_This is on you, Mister Stark. DM._

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 13, 2025_

_hehehe yes see what i mean #pepperonyforever_

**_pls make me a meme guys_ ** _@mynameislegitjeff ·Apr 13, 2025_

@yeetmysoul _why are you so obsessed with them, cousin?_

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 13, 2025_

_because, jeffery, I refuse to accept that it isn’t canon._

**_drink me some bleach bois_ ** _@yeetmysoul·Apr 13, 2025_

 _aofbcuweknsaobwfvbdk_ @iammorganmay _pls find evidence_

**_pls make me a meme guys_ ** _@mynameislegitjeff ·Apr 13, 2025_

_fuck you maddie._

**_pls make me a meme guys_ ** _@mynameislegitjeff ·Apr 13, 2025_

@iammorganmay _I know she’s your best friend but please don’t indulge her. pls don’t do ur scary hacking thing i’ve seen it and im now terrified of u :0_

“Wait, holy shit —“ Morgan was cut off by her phone dinging with two notifications.

“What?” Peter asked. “Wait, that — that person! The drink me some bleach bois person! Ive seen them on here before — dissing the guy that moms been seen with cause she wants mom and dad to be together!”

“Yeah, well that _person,”_ Morgan rolled her eyes. “Is Maddie. That’s _Maddie!”_

“Maddie, as in, your best friend, _Maddie? That_ Maddie?”

“That Maddie.” Morgan confirmed. “That Maddie, who knows mom personally, os trying to get me to confirm that mom and dad should be together.”

“…have you _told_ her — about everything?”

“No..” Morgan shook her head. “No, I haven’t — she’s just — fuck you Maddie.” She quickly replied to them.

**_f u c k n e w y o r k c i t y_ ** _@iammorganmay_

 _hey_ @yeetmysoul @mynameislegitjeff _it's like two thirty in the morning in malibu why the fuck are you both awake_

“Seriously?” Peter exclaimed, turning slightly to glare at her.

“What?”

“That’s your username?” Peter sounded personally slandered by it. “Dude!”

“Well… you know, I haven’t really been on here since we found out about…” She gestured vaguely around. “This… so I haven’t really had the chance to change it. I don’t hate New York as much anymore — now that I’ve met you and dad and Aunt May and — yeah.”

“I hope you don’t hate New York — because _yes_ , I _do_ consider this a personal slander, and _yes,_ mom and dad _will_ have to stop a homicide.” He grinned.

“That’s a Hamilton reference.” Morgan whispered. “The original lyrics for Schuyler Defeated…”

“Look! Grandpa’s in the paper!” Her brother started to whisper. “War hero Phillip Schuyler in danger of using senate to young upstart Aaron Burr?… Grandpa might lose his seat in the senate.”

Morgan snorted slightly. “I thought he was unopposed?”

“Not according to the paper, he isn’t!”

“Go make sure the door is closed!”

They said the next part together. “Further down, further down, see Schuyler has a challenger from New York, New York, for senator — Burr!”

“I gotta go, I gotta find Alexander!” Morgan sang alone again, and then Peter picked up Phillips part.

“Let him know we’re on his side —“

“— No! He’ll consider this a personable slander — I’ve gotta stop a homicide!”

“Oh!” Peter laughed. “Wow, we are _bad_ at singing.”

“Oh, shut up, dude — we’re great at singing!” Morgan laughed, leaning on her brother as she struggled to stop the laughter. “We’re like, so good! We should be in the show! Go on broadway! And I’ll go on as Eliza, and you’ll be Charles Lee —“

“— was left alone without a pot to piss in! He started saying this to everybody who would listen —“ Peter cut across her. “Washington cannot be left alone to his devices! Indecisive from crisis to crisis — the best thing he can do for the revolution is go back to planting tobacco in Mount Vernon!”

“Don’t do a thing, history will prove him wrong — _but sir_ — we’ve got a war to fight, lets move along! _Strong_ words from Lee, someone ought to hold him to it!”

“I can’t disobey direct orders..” Her brother whispered.

“Then I’ll do it… Alexander, you’re the closest friend I’ve got.”

“Laurens — do not throw away your shot!”

“What the _shit_ is happening in here?” Their mom asked, opening the door, coffee in hand. “It’s not even half past yet!”

 _“Shit.”_ They whispered at the same time.

She rolled her eyes, and took another long sip of her drink. “Alright, no. No — I’m not — I don’t need more sleep deprived coffee addicted smart people in my care — go to sleep, both of you. Love got an hour to sleep in, so do it. _Sleep!”_

_“Mom —“_

She wiped a hand down her face tiredly. “No, Morgan, sweetie, just — you both need to sleep. My Meeting finishes at seven, I’ll wake you up then. Okay?”

“Okay.” They said, together.

“Okay.” Their mom sighed. “Go to sleep — Morgan, sleep in your own bed — or your back’ll kill you.”

“Kay.” Morgan said noncommittally.

“Sleep.” Her mom groaned. “I swear to god, child — sleep.”

**_APRIL 13, 2025, 11:07 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Dude, seriously, I miss you so much! Like, I hate New York a tiny bit less now, but like — bro! I miss you!” Morgan exclaimed into the phone.

She was _technically_ skipping right now, because she’d gone to the bathrooms for the specific purpose of calling her best friend, but no-one needed to know that.

_“I know! Like, it’s been like, two months! I don’t think I’ve been away from you for that long like, ever — except for that time you and your mom had to go to that super super long trip in Seoul!”_

“I know!”

_“Wait, wait, wait, Morgs —“_

“Yeah?” Morgan asked, as her best friend paused for longer than seemed necessary. “What’s up?”

_“You’ve gotta tell me, man — is it true?”_

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Dude — you gotta be _way_ less vague if you want me to get it — is _what_ true?”

_“Pepperony!”_

“Seriously?” Morgan let out a short laugh. “I swear to god, you weren’t this obsessed with that when mom and I left — why are you so excited about it now?”

_“Did you not see the photos from the article when they were seen together at a charity gala for the first time since 2013?”_

“…No?”

 _“Cmon Morgs,_ really? _It’s_ Celebrity Gossip _, and you are literally one of them — how could you not have seen it?”_

“Yeah, I’ve sorta had a lot of… _other stuff_ going on, Maddie.” Morgan said — yes, it was a very vague way to say that she met her long lost twin brother and found out that her dad was Tony Stark, but… oh well. “Is that why you're obsessed with them now?”

 _“I mean… yeah. I found that, and they looked_ adorable _together, so I went searching for more photos of them — did you know that they have been on ‘bad terms’ since Tony Stark moved back to New York in 2013?”_

“Yes, I did.” She knew that _all_ too well. It was literally the reason she didn’t know she had a twin until last month.

 _“Anyway — before that, all the photos of them together? Adorable. There’s a picture of them dancing together at The — something about firemen? I dunno? Anyway, it was some sort of Charity Gala, and your mom_ had _to have been pregnant with you when it was taken, but she_ really _didn’t look it, and they were just — they looked so_ happy _together, before 2013 — and then I found the thing where your mom confirmed that they dated in 2012 and now — come on, Morgs! Aren’t you interested?”_

“Not… really — anyway, Mads, I was with my br—“ _wait, she can’t say brother…_ “—friend this morning, and we were looking at all your tweets, and — dude, the now about me _maybe_ being a ‘pepperoni baby’, or whatever? I think you would’ve noticed if I was two years younger than you!”

 _“Yeah, but —“_ Maddie reasoned. _“If he was your dad, you’d probably be even more of a genius than you already are, so_ maybe _they would have put you up a couple years!”_

“Over dads dead body.” Morgan muttered under her breath — Peter had been very clear about their dads views on skipping graded; strictly _against._

_“What was that?”_

“Nothing, Nothing.”

 _“But even then —“_ Her best friend kept going. _“That gala thingy was in 2010, so maybe you were born in 2011 — so your birthday is still your birthday, and you’re just a year younger — or_ maybe _, you were conceived_ that night, _and they changed your birthdate so that you could be in my year!”_

“Mads —“

Maddie cut across her, obviously very excited about the conversation. _“Holy shit — if that’s real, then Tony Starks kid is your half brother, which means —_ dude, _do you have a half brother that you never told me about?”_

“No, I have a _twin brother_ that I never told you about.” Morgan snapped, getting a bit fed up at her friend… thence realised what she said. _“Fuck._ Shit, I — pretend you never heard that! I didn’t —“

 _“You have a_ twin brother? _Did he go to school with us? Why was he never at your moms house? How come —“_

Well, it looked like she had to not lie, now.

Great. Just fucking _wonderful._

She sighed, and leant her head against the wall. “I didn’t _know_ about him, Maddie. We — we go to school together, and he figured out that mom was… y’know, _mom_ — so he told me that his dad was —“

_“— Tony Stark??”_

“Yep.” Morgan muttered.

_“Holy shit.”_

“Yeah, uh — anyway, we found some photos of us when we were really little, and we couldn’t see the difference between us, and then I went through moms stuff and found pictures of her and dad and Peter and I when we were born, and May was there, and — yeah. It’s a lot.”

 _“Holy shit.”_ Maddie whispered again. _“Holy shit, your dad is Tony Stark — and his kid is called Peter. Peter Stark. And you’re his twin sister. You, Morgan Potts, are the daughter of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark, and you have a twin brother, Peter Stark, and — and you’re the niece of May Parker, who we used to fangirl over for being the overlooked Stark kid, and — and — holy fuck. That is —“_

“Insane, I know.”

Maddie let out a little yell. _“Oh my god, I can’t believe that I was right — this is why we don’t want Tony Starks son and Pepper Potts daughter to date — cause they’re twins!”_

“Yep. The whole internet is full of horny motherfuckers that encourage incest.”

_“Ew.”_

“Yeah, it’s… not fun.”

_“I will continue my quest to overthrow the shippers of you and your newly acquired twin brother — I swear it upon the sisterhood of the M &Ms.”_

Morgan laughed. “Thanks — really, thanks. I’ll — well, my parents are gonna murder me and Peter, cause we did something dumb, but I’ll call you later tonight, and you can meet my brother, okay?”

_“Okay, I’ll talk — wait, dude!”_

“Yeah?”

_“Does this mean it’s real? Is Pepperony real?”_

She laughed at her best friend again. “No, hun, no. It used to be, but it died — still not completely sure why, actually. And they only started talking again cause me and Peter found each other, and swapped lives for a few days, and kind of forced them to make a better custody agreement —“

_“— you pretended to be your brother? You did a ‘She’s The Man’?”_

“Sadly… yes.” Morgan sighed. “It didn’t end well.”

_“I can imagine.”_

“Yeah, I met Natasha Romanoff — it was a disaster — anyway, bro, I’ve really gotta get back to class — I’ll call you later!”

_“Kay, bye Mo, love you, miss you, call me back or I’ll channel my inner assassin and kill you!”_

“Yeah, yeah, bye bro! Love you too! Talk later!” She hung up the phone, and laughed — it was actually kind of freeing; telling Maddie.

It seemed like they just told Peters friends — Peters aunt. But her aunt didn’t know, and _her_ best friend hadn’t known, just a few minutes ago, but now…

Well, it felt like she had someone in her corner, properly — her best and oldest friend.

It was nice.

**_APRIL 13, 2025, 4:02 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

They were screwed. They were screwed, and they were just waiting for their inevitable murder.

Peters mom was pacing, waiting for their dad to arrive — he was two minutes late, as she had been angrily muttering for the last twenty seconds — and that wasn’t helping his moms mood.

She was mad. She hadn’t told him and Morgan _why_ she was mad, yet, but it was pretty easy to guess why. It was because he’d stolen his suit back. Because his sister had become Eclipse. Because they hadn’t told anyone — again.

Peter could actually hear his fathers irregular — it was _always_ irregular, he had a fucking _arc reactor_ keeping it going — heartbeat, and then — then he heard the knock on the door.

Oh, fuck, he was going to die. He was going to die, and he was going to see his sister die, and it — it would all just be one giant fucking mess.

Their mom rushed to open the door for their dad, and he stepped in. She closed their door behind him silently.

He looked short next to her in her heels — so much so that it was almost funny — but his face showed that laughter was _not_ the way to be going right now. He had huge, bruise-like bags under his eyes, covered up by his signature sunglasses, and his hair was an absolute mess. He frowned when he saw Peter and Morgan, and turned to their mom. “Where are we talking?”

“Dining room.” Their mom replied, her voice much less warm and comforting than usual. She took a seat at the head of the dining table, and their dad sat next to her. Peter sat opposite them, and so did his sister.

It seemed like they reacted to mad parents in the exact same way, because they both seemed to curl in on themselves a little, and Peter was _certain_ that his sister was also looking down in shame.

Also, something smelled _terrible._

“So.” Their dad started, his voice sounding a bit.. off — almost like —

— oh. The smell, the voice, the glasses.

His dad had been drinking — after like, _years_ sober, his dad had drunk. And it was Peters fault — because he stressed the man out, because he accidentally made his sister become a vigilante, because he was always fucking up, because —

“— we all… _really_ need ta get better at this whole — talky thing. Cause we are _shit._ We are all _shit_ at it.”

 _“Tony.”_ Their mom hissed.

“I’m sorry, Pep, I just —“ He let out a small wail, like he was going to cry, and then took a deep breath, as though to steady himself. “I found out, in the very early hours of this morning, that my son had stoled back the super suit that I _confiscated_ from him, because he stuffed up and I didn’t want him to hurt himself _and_ others, and that my daughter made herself a knockoff, retro reflective Iron Man suit, in _my_ lab, in _my_ house, without me noticing. And so, for the first time in three years, I had a drink. And then I had another. And quite a few more.”

“Tony…” Their mom murmured.

“I’m — I’m getting to my point, Pep, trust me.” He sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. “I haven’t drunk like that since 2017, because I started to fight against the alcohol addiction that I _definitely_ had, and sometime after my fourth drink, I realised what the issue here is!”

“Tony —“ Their mom tried again. “— you’re not thinking straight, honey. You’ve gotta —“

 _Honey._ Peter didn’t think his mom even realised that she said it — but he did. And it made him _very_ happy, despite the shit show that was his father being drunk again for the first time in the decade.

“No, Pep, shhh —“ He waved her off. “I — it’s _me!_ It’s always been _me —_ even before! I was the reason dad didn’t want May to be in charge, because he had a son, so she couldn’t inherit the company, and then _I_ was the reason that I didn’t talk to Aunt Peggy for six years in 2000, and _I_ was the reason we broke up, Pep. I was the reason the kids didn’t get to grow up together—“

“— dad —“ Peter started, but his dad kept rambling, his words slurring together slightly.

“I’m the reason the Avengers broke up, and I’m the reason our son keeps putting himself in danger, and our daughter made herself a super suit in _my_ lab, and — and don’t you _see_ Pep? I’m the common variable! I have to leave. I’m leaving. I — I can’t keep putting everyone in danger. Don’t try find me.”

Peters dad stood up, and started toward the door, but Peter rushed up to stop him. “Dad, dad, no, you — dad you _can’t leave!”_

His dad looked absolutely _broken_ when he looked down, and Peter felt tears come to his eyes. “I’m sorry, Pete. I’m sorry, baby. I love you so much. But I — I have to — to go away.”

“No, dad, you can’t!” He exclaimed.

“You’re being ridiculous, Tony!” His mom exclaimed, now on his dads other side and helping him drag the other man back down to his seat. “You’re drunk, and you’re not thinking straight.”

“And you can’t just _leave,_ dad!” Morgan yelled, sounding somewhere between hysterical and unimaginably angry. “I only just got you — you can’t just fuck of because Pete and I fucked up! This is on us, not you!”

“I love you all” He said, when he finally broke out of their restraint. “And I’m sorry, and I’ll miss you. But I am leaving now.”

“No, dad —“ Peter yelled, but his father had already slammed the door behind him. Peter fell to the ground. “He left.” He whispered, not even trying to hide the tears that were falling down his cheeks. “He left me — why — why would he leave me?”

HIs mom sat next to him, and pulled him into a tight hug, pulling Morgan into the embrace too. “It’ll be okay? You hear me? In fact —“ She took her right arm away from the hug, though both Peter and Morgan kept clinging to her, and grabbed her phone, dealing a number. “Happy.”

 _“Pepper” What’s going on?”_ Peter hears Happy on the other end of the line.

“Do you remember in 2004 when Tony got really, really drunk, and you had to chase him halfway to the Caribbean?”

_“The great disappearing act of ’04, of course I remember — why?”_

“Because he’s trying to run away right now, because he’s super drunk, and he thinks everything is his fault, and I need you to find him — I would do it, but I’ve _really_ gotta stick with the kids.”

_“Okay. Yeah. Copy that — will he be okay, or should I call Cho in case he needs his stomach pumped?”_

“Call Cho — he hasn’t drunk this much in a long time — he’ll need it.”

_“Okay. I’m on it. I’ll meet you upstate?”_

Peters mom sighed. “Yeah. Bye, Hap.” She hung up, and pulled them back into the hug. “It’s okay — Uncle Happy’s going to get your dad, and Doctor Helen Cho is gonna fix him up at the compound upstate, and everything will be _fine._ He’s just not himself right now, okay? He didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know.” Peter whispered. “I know he didn’t mean it. I’m just worried about him.”

His mom just pulled him in tighter, and he realised — the reassurances were more for Morgan than for him. Because Morgan hadn’t grown up with their dad as he tried to get on top of his drinking problem.

“It’s fine, Peter.” His mom whispered, probably realising the same thing as he did. “He’ll be fine. Cho’ll fix him up, then we can get Rhodey to talk some sense into him.”

“Uncle Rhodey always fixes him up when he gets like this.” Peter nodded — wow, this was making a lot of long buried childhood issues come up against his will. “Cho’ll fix him up, and Uncle Rhodey’ll talk some sense into him, and everything will be okay.”

“Everything will be okay.” Morgan echoed hollowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, um... wow, that took way longer than i meant it to -- sorry :/
> 
> i havent been in the best... brain time atm, cause LiFe and shit, so the next chapter will probably be a slow update too (sorry) but uh... bonus good news, theres only one or two more chaters! Which is... relieving, to say the least. 
> 
> idk yall im just kind of... loosing faith in this fic -- like idk it just feels kinda shit .... almost sone though!
> 
> the next thing that will exist that I write will be in my main series (like the endgame fix it peter is natashas frfr nephew series) so thats fun :)
> 
> also fun fact, i started learning russian, and i now know like, three phrases and two swear words (and honestly what else do i need out. of life aha)
> 
> anyway uh -- see yall next chapter :)
> 
> (ill try be speedy speed i promise)
> 
> also im sorry about how this ended looking back it seems a bit harsh, but... oh well. iTs FoR tHe pLoT i PrOmiSe :)


	13. PART TWELVE

**_APRIL 13, 2025, 4:16 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

After they finally stopped hugging their mom had sent her and her brother off to pack bags, so they could stay at the Avengers Compound for a couple of days, if need be. Their mom had been trying to contact May since they started packing, and so she was talking to their aunt on the phone now.

Morgan guessed that she was probably in some sort of shock — she’d never expected something like that to happen. She never thought that her dad would do something like that. And yes, Peter had told her about the struggles that the man had had with alcohol abuse in the past, but he’d also told her that he was a long time sober, now. So it had still been unexpected.

Peter hadn’t spoken since their dad left. He’d gone to pack some stuff when their mom told them to, but he hadn’t spoken. He didn’t seem okay — and Morgan was worried.

She had packed some clothes — normal clothes, some pyjamas, teeth stuff, phone stuff, _necessities_ (because being female sucked), and, possibly most importantly, she had her death boots on.

Really, they were just black boots, but they were a bit heeled and they made her feel tall and powerful. Morgan needed that right now.

She silently went to wait for her brother and mom to be ready, taking a seat on the edge of the couch with her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She let a few silent tears fall, but wiped them away quickly.

The whole situation had her completely stumped. Obviously her dad had only acted like that because of the alcohol, but… he had been sober for _so long._ And he hadn’t drunk like that when he first found out about Spider-Man, and the switch. Something about this must’ve just made him snap… and it was her fault.

She was the one that made LUNA and Eclipse in his lab, and her going out and stalking Katie with that was the only reason that Peter stole his suit back, so that he could follow her and make sure she didn’t get killed… and if she hadn’t done that, it would’ve been fine. If she hadn’t judged Katie Reed so quickly, and waited for the explanation instead of jumping to conclusions and stalking the poor woman in a super suit, this wouldn’t have happened.

This was all her fault. _All her fault._

Her mom came out a minute later, also carrying an overnight bag, and talking on the phone. “— yeah, I know, it’s — it’s bad, yeah. Happy’s finding him now, and I’m gonna take the kids upstate to be there when Doctor Cho fixes him up — yeah — I know you’re very busy, but if you could call and yell at him at some — yeah. Yeah, thanks, May. I’ll — of course. I’ll make sure they talk to Rhodey, yeah. I don’t — yeah, I don’t think Tony told him that they swapped, cause I haven’t — yeah, he hasn’t called or texted or anything. Okay, Bye, May — yeah, bye.”

Her mom hung up the phone, and turned to Morgan, attempting to hide the pain in her face with a smile. “That was May, she’s gonna call and yell at your dad when Cho’s sorted him out. Where’s Peter?”

Morgan shrugged. “Haven’t seen him since we left to pack. I — I’m worried about him, mom. I don’t — I don’t think he’s okay.”

“Sweetie…” Her mom murmured, pulling her into a hug. “He... he‘ll be okay. We just have to sort out your stubborn father.”

“Why…” Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to force the tears away from her eyes. “Why did he _do_ that? I — I don’t _understand,_ mom, I don’t — I don’t _get it.”_

Her mom ran he hands through her hair comforting, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. “Your dad, he… he has a lot of issues. Back… _before,_ he was an alcoholic. He tried not to be, but every once in a while, he’d end up drunk again. It’s… it’s a coping mechanism. He… he has the self preservation skills of a spoon. He doesn’t — he doesn’t have any regard for _his own_ safety. That’s why he blames himself when things happen, and that leads to him drinking to try and cope. It’s… a very vicious cycle.”

“Is that why you guys split up?” She whispered.

Her mother nodded. “Yes. Among… other things. Our relationship was rocky, back then — we fought a lot. Because he wanted to put himself, trying to stop terrorists and stop New York from getting bombed, and… all sorts of things. And the drinking, too. Everything was just very _badly handled —_ and that’s on me _and_ your dad, not just him.”

“I know…” She trailed off, then looked up at her mom. “Do you want me to go grab Peter?”

Her mom nodded, then spoke quietly. “Yeah. We need to get going soon, so… just knock on his door. Don’t barge in there if it’s closed.”

“Course.” She slipped her bag off her shoulder, and walked down the hall, to Peters bedroom. The door was shut, but she couldn’t hear anything from inside. She knocked cautiously. “Pete? Can I come in?”

There was no sound, then the soft noise of footsteps on the floor. The door opened, to reveal her dishevelled looking brother, his phone in his hand and a backpack over his shoulder.

He looked terrible.

He had blue tinted sunglasses on, the same type that their dad always wore, and the resemblance between father and son was so striking when Peter wore them that Morgan had to second guess how no-one had ever even _suspected_ that he was Tony Starks son. Her brothers hair was messy, undoubtedly from him running his hands through it in his stress — a thing she’d noticed that he definitely did when he was worried — and his mouth was set in a frown. Through the glasses, his eyes looked glassy and distant.

Peter gave her a small nod, and left his room, closing the door behind him.

He was buried in an MIT hoodie that was definitely too big for him — and definitely their fathers — and had a green jacket thrown over it.

She followed him as he left the hallway to stand in front of their mom silently. Their mom smiled at her brother, though there was pain written in her expression, and he just pointed to the door briefly, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes!” Their mom said, jumping up toward the door, beckoning for them to follow. “Yes, we’ve gotta get going. Is there anything you need from your dads place, Peter?”

Morgans brother paused for a moment, frowning, then nodded. “Yeah.” He murmured. “Yeah, I’ve just gotta grab a couple of things.”

**_APRIL 13, 2025, 4:41 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

The couple things that Peter got from his house were a tiger teddy bear, and a six pack of monster energy drinks.

His tiger. _Кошка —_ koshka. The Russian word for _cat._ May and Ben had bought him when Peter was six — during the horrible time when his dad was MIA in Siberia, and then afterward, when his dad had to have most of his chest reconstructed, because _Rogers_ almost killed him. During the time when Uncle Rhodey couldn’t _walk_ because he was paralysed, and wasn’t used to his leg braces yet.

Кошка had since become something that he found great comfort in — especially when his dad was missing, or on missions, or hurt in some way. Especially when he was worried about his family. Especially when how much he missed Uncle Ben would randomly hit him, like he was getting run over by a train.

Peter hated to admit it, but he really, _really_ loved Кошка _._ It felt juvenile, but he didn’t really care. Кошка was probably his most prized possession, and at times like this, he didn’t even care how babyish it seemed.

And then the master drinks… well, he felt like absolute _shit,_ and if he didn’t get some high amounts of caffeine in his system _immediately,_ he would crash and burn, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good in any way at all.

Morgan and his mom didn’t really get it. As they drove away from his house, the only sound being the quiet hum of the top 40 on the radio, he felt unnecessarily isolated.

Morgan wasn’t raised by their dad. She hadn’t grown up with the constant fear of loosing him, or the on and off alcohol abuse, or the terror that things as simple as his father leaving the house had brought him. As much as his sister tried, she just wouldn’t _understand._ She didn’t know their dad like he did. The mans abrupt disappearance would feel less like a betrayal to her; she wouldn’t feel like her whole childhood was just one huge party of false hope. She wouldn’t feel as _abandoned_ as he did right now — she wouldn’t feel like fourteen years worth of _‘I love you’_ s and _‘Im going to protect you’_ s were lies.

And he wasn’t trying to invalidate however his sister was feeling about the current predicament, it was just that… it probably wouldn’t be as heavy on her as it was on him. It would still hurt her, definitely, but not nearly as much as it was hurting _him._

The man that raised him — who had spent his life assuring Peter that he would never leave; that nothing could kill him and take him away from his son — had drunkenly walked out on him, and it was his fault.

It was his fault, because he became Spider-Man. Because he fucked up on the ferry, which made him have to tell his dad that he was Spider-Man. Because him being Spider-Man inspired his sister to make a suit and _his_ danger sense told him that Katie Reed was dangerous, which made Morgan take her suit to follow the woman. Because he stole his suit back and kept patrolling.

 _He_ was the reason his dad was somewhere in New York, dangerously drunk. Him, and his bad decision making, and his dumb spider powers, and his stupid lack of self preservation.

He got back into his moms car silently, placing Кошка on the middle seat, and opening one of the master drinks. “Want one?” He held the box out to his sister.

Morgan nodded, offering a sympathetic smile. “Thanks."

His mom turned around in the front seat, plugging her seatbelt back in. “Got everything you need?”

“Yeah.” Peter murmured, avoiding his moms gaze. “I’ve got Кошка, got my monsters, I’ve got a stash of gum upstate, I’m all good.”

“Great.” She smiled at him sadly. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged her off, edging around his moms worry. “Everything will be _fine._ May and Rhodey and Nat and Happy will talk some sense into him. It’ll be _fine.”_

They started backing out of the driveway, and his mom nodded slig _htl_ y, eyes returning to the road in front of her. “He loves you — so much. He didn’t mean what he did. And there’s no excuse for him to have acted that way — but he loves you _so, so_ much. He loves you _both_ so much. That’s why he’s upset — because all he wants is for you to both be safe and happy, and he thinks it’s on him that you’re both going out and _fighting crime_ and putting yourselves in danger… which we still need to have a talk about, by the way.”

“Or I could just drown myself in lemons.” Peter muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” His mom looked at him in the mirror, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm?”

“What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing.” He shot her the _‘press smile’_ that he’d learnt by imitating his dad. “I didn’t say anything.”

His mom frowned in the rear view mirror, but Peter ignored it, choosing instead to stare aimlessly out the window, leaning his head against it.

He wished it was raining — then he could watch the raindrops race, and there would be something more interesting to stare at than just _buildings._

Slowly, the tall buildings began to shrink, becoming smaller and smaller until the began to disappear all together, until there were no buildings above four stories anywhere in sight. Until the sighs of New York City turned to that of upstate.

His sister started baring random music as they drove — from rock music like AC/DC and Queen, to old _Australian_ music like Powderfinger and Paul Kelly, to indie rock like alt-J and MGMT and Hozier. Morgan was singing loudly — which Peter assumed was some sort of way to deal with whatever the _fuck_ was going on.

A new song turned on, and Morgan made an excited little squeal at the sound of it — _Kenny Rogers; The Gambler._ “On a warm summers evening, on a train bound from nowhere, I met up with a gambler; we were both too tired to sleep. So we took turns a-staring, out the window at the darkness, till boredom overtook us, and he began to speak, he said,”

Peter laughed at his sister, and joined her. “Son I’ve made a life, outta reading peoples faces, and knowing what the cards were by the way they held their eyes. So if you don’t mind my saying, I can see you’re out of aces — for a taste of your whiskey, I’ll give you some advice.”

“So I handed him my bottle, and he drank down my last swallow — then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light, and the night got deathly quiet. And his face lost all expression, said that If you're gonna play the game, boy, you gotta learn to play it right.”

Their mom joined them then, as she kept driving. “You’ve gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run —“

They kept singing, as they continued upstate.

**_APRIL 14, 2025, 7:29 AM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Tony was confused, when he woke up. He could feel a drip in his arm, and could hear the loud beeping of a heart monitor.

His eyes flew open, and he could see white _everywhere._ White ceiling, white walls, white sheets. He didn’t really take anything, in, until his eyes landed on the man sitting on a chair next to his bed.

 _“Honey Bear.”_ He said, looking at his best friend in confusion. “What… what’s going on. What happened? Why am I — why am I in the… _MedBay?”_

Rhodey stood up, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Tony madly.

Yep. He was in trouble. He had no idea _why_ he was in trouble, but he was.

Fuck.

“Alcohol poisoning.” Rhodey said bluntly, moving over to the other side of the bed, and sitting on the bad, still looking _very_ mad. “You drank way too much, and had to get your stomach pumped.”

“Oh.” Some memories started to return to him — of scanning through the internet in the early hours of the morning, and finding that — finding that Peter had stolen his suit back, and Morgan had made herself a super suit.

That his _kids_ were out there, putting themselves in _danger_ — and it was all his fault.

After that, things were very fuzzy — he remembered… vodka, and alcohol, and stumbling around the city, and something about the kids. Not much else, though.

“You got _drunk,_ Tony. You haven’t had alcohol for _three years,_ and you got _so_ drunk that you got _alcohol poisoning.”_ Rhodes snapped. “And you know how I had to find out? _Pepper_ called me — _Pepper,_ who _I_ haven’t heard from in _ten years. She_ called me, and told me that Hap was bringing you up here, and that —“ The man cur off, and glared at him straight in the face. “You didn’t even _tell_ me — that you and Pepper made up, or that Peter and Morgan met up and forced you guys to talk, or that you had split custody, or that Peter was _Spider-Man —_ were you even _going_ to tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” Tony muttered. “It hasn’t been long, I just — haven’t got that far, yet. It’s a lot.”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna hear it.” Rhodey snapped. “Because you went to Peppers apartment, while she had the _kids,_ and told them that you were _leaving.”_

His jaw dropped. “I told them _what?”_

“You told them that you were leaving. You said, in front of _Peter_ — of _Peter,_ you _know_ how he gets about you going places, and how much it stresses him out — you said, in front of _him,_ that you were leaving. That you were _going away,_ and then you just _left.”_

“Shit.” Tony ran a hand through his hair, and then started pulling the drip out of his arm.

His best friend grabbed his wrist, stopping him from doing so. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, man? You just had your _stomach pumped,_ man. You can’t _do that.”_

Tony shook his head. “No, no, I — I need to get back to New York. I need to go and… and sort everything with Pete and Maguna and Pepper out, I need to —“

“— you _need_ to get better, and _then_ you can talk to Pepper. Her and the kids are staying like, twenty minutes away from here, so when you’re _better,_ and _sorted out,_ you can talk to Pepper, okay?”

“Okay? Okay. Okay, I can — I can get better, so that I can talk to Pep. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that…” He trailed off a little. “I’m taking it that she doesn’t want me… around the kids? At the moment?”

“No. She doesn’t. They’re staying about twenty minuted away, but… she’s very mad at you — rightfully so. You fucked up.”

Tony sighed, and ran another hand through his hair. “Okay. Yeah. That makes sense. A lot of sense. Can you, uh… can you tell Underoos and Madame Secretary — tell them that I love them? More than anything? And that I — _alcohol.”_

“Okay.” Rhodey sat back down on the chair next to Tonys bed, frowning at him. “So… are you gonna tell me _why_ you got so drunk that you needed your stomach pumped after three years sober, or do I have to find that out from Pepper, too?”

Tony paused, then buried his face in his hands. “Peter’s Spider-Man.” He muttered.

“Yeah, Pepper told me. She —“

“— Peter’s Spider-Man, and Morgan made herself a suit, and — Rhodey, they’re out there, and they’re — they’re — they’re going to get _hurt,_ Rhodey, and I — I can’t — I _took_ his suit away, Rhodey.” He looked up at his best friend desperately. “I _took it away,_ after the ferry things — before I even knew it was him, and he — he _took it back._ He left for Pepper’s with it, and I didn’t notice. Morgan built herself a whole ass _suit,_ in _my_ lab, and I didn’t notice.”

“Tony…” Rhodey’s voice was soft, but Tony shook his head.

“No, I — This is all my fault, Rhodey — that’s why I got drunk. Because I _let_ this happen. I failed. All I _ever_ wanted was to protect them, and — and that’s why I let us break up, Rhodes — I thought — Morgan was supposed to be safe with Pepper. She _was_ safe with Pepper, and she — the _moment_ she started living at mine half the time, _this_ happened. I happened because of me. I’m a terrible father.”

“You’re not a terrible father, Tones.” Rhodey shook his head, and Tony raised his eyebrows sceptically.

He _was_ a shit father, and the fact that he got drunk and told his kids that he was leaving them just proved it. “No, I am.”

“No, you’re not.” Rhodey argued. “You’re not a terrible father. You fucked up yesterday, yes. Anyone can see that. But… everyone fucks up sometimes.”

“But I —”

“— nope. I’m talking, man. I’ve — I’ve literally been around since you were _fifteen_ man. The only person — in the whole _world —_ that has known you longer than that is May, and she’s your _sister._ We would _know_ if you were a shit dad. I talked to May, you know.”

“What’s she say?” Tony asked. “Said that I was a selfish asshole and the only reason that dear old dad didn’t give her the company was because of me?”

Rhodey scoffed. “She’s your _sister,_ man. She doesn’t _care_ about the fact that you got the company. She never wanted it, and you _know it.”_ Tonys best friend leaned back in his chair. “What she actually said was that you’re a good father — you try your best, and you _are_ good at it. We can both see it, actually — you’ve tried so hard not to become Howard that you’ve turned into your mom.”

It was Tony’s turn to scoff. “I haven’t turned into my _mom,_ Rhodey. I just pulled a _classic_ Howard Stark — I got blackout drunk and told my _children_ that I was going away from them.”

“Your dad was a drunk, Tones.”

“And so am I.”

“You’re not, though. You used to be, but you’re not, anymore. You were sober for _three years,_ for your sons sake. Howard never tried to stop drinking for you and May.”

“But —“

 _“Tony!”_ Rhodey rolled his eyes. “You’re not like Howard. I _promise you_ that you haven’t turned into him. I _Promise.”_

The door opened, and in came a very disheveled, very mad looking May.

_Shit._

His sister stormed up to the bed, glaring at him. “Anthony Edward Stark, I swear to gd, if you’re comparing yourself to Howard Stark right now, I _will_ kill you. And trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

“Hey, May!” Tony tried to smile.

“Dont _‘Hey, May’_ me right now, Anthony. I’m just here to sort out your stupid, self-blaming brain. Okay?”

“I mean, this _is_ my —“

“Don’t.” May snapped. “Don’t you fucking _dare,_ Tony. It’s not your fault that Peter and Morgan decided to become _vigilantes._ You might have inspired them, but that doesn’t make it _your fault.”_

“I told them I was _leaving them,_ May! I’ve turned into dad.”

May rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that dad would’ve kicked us out before he sent us off to school if it wasn’t for mom. Have you tried to send those kids away?”

“No, but —”

“You tried to send _yourself_ away. Take yourself out of the narrative, so that they stop taking _inspiration_ from you.”

“… _I’m erasing myself from the narrative.”_

“That isn’t helping _anyone,_ Tony — and don’t you even _try_ me with the fucking Hamilton right now. That just proves that you’re a good dad that takes interest in what his kids like — which is the _opposite_ of dad.”

“You just don’t _get it.”_

“Oh, _fuck you!”_ May exclaimed. “I do _‘get it’._ I’m probably the only person that could actually completely get it. You have daddy issues? Well _same,_ bro. We had the same fucking shitty ass father. And as someone who grew up with the same _actually_ terrible father as you, I know for a _fact_ that you’re _nothing_ like him.”

“I’m sorry, May, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I know you didn’t.” She smiled at him slightly. “You’re a dumbass. You know that, right? An absolute dumbass.”

“She’s right.” Rhodey agreed.

Tony laughed. “Yeah. I know. I’m a dumbass.”

May smiled slightly. “I’m going to go make sure they’re okay. I’ll… I can bring them back with me — if Pepper’s okay with it?”

“Yeah, that would… that would be nice.” He smiled at his older sister. “You should probably go with her, Sour Patch. They — Peter’d like that. And then you could meet Morgan properly.”

“I’ve gotta stay back here and babysit _you,_ man.”

“I’ll be fine.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Seriously — you can send Captain righteous and patriotic down here if I really need _adult supervision.”_

“Oh, I will.” Rhodey didn’t look completely… _not mad,_ but he wasn’t as mad as he had been. Tonys best friend stood up and gave him a small smile and a wave, before following May out the door.

Five minutes later, Captain Steve ‘America’ Rogers came to the MedBay and gave him a PSA on alcohol consumption — which was rich, coming from the man that couldn’t physically _get_ drunk anymore.

**_APRIL 14, 2025, 7:53 AM — MOTEL NEAR THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Pepper was worried about her son.

She’d _raised_ Morgan. She knew everything about her daughter; how the girls mind work. She knew Morgans issues with sleeping and coping mechanisms and caffeine addiction, and she knew how to help her.

But she didn’t know Peter as completely as she knew Morgan — a result of her past mistakes and bad decisions, but still very true.

Pepper knew that her son hadn’t slept last night — because she hadn’t either. Not much. But Peter… well, as far as she could see, he hadn’t slept at all.

He’d sat down on his bed in their motel at eleven last night, pulled out his laptop and wireless headphones, and watched what she was pretty sure was Men In Black. And then the second, and the third. Then he’d watched The Office until Morgan woke up.

And Pepper didn’t really know how to help him.

Assuming that his thought process and the way his mind worked was very similar to that of Morgan was an optimistic assumption, and she didn’t know if treating his problems in the same manner she would with Morgan would much.

And somehow the issues she’d helped Morgan through weren’t quite on the level of the person that raised them getting drunk and leaving, with no intentions of returning. The situation was stressing her out. She could tell that it was hurting her daughter.

It was bad enough that Morgan had to deal with the father that she had only _just_ found getting drunk and saying that he was leaving, giving no implications of his return. Add on the fact that Peter had lived with the man his whole life, and most _definitely_ had fears that every time Tony left he could get hurt or killed, and now had to deal with the fact that Tony had left of his own accord, not because of his responsibility as an Avenger? _That_ was bad. Really bad.

Her son was absolutely crushed. Destroyed. She could see it. She could tell. She just _knew._

It was almost eight in the morning, and Pepper needed to work. She needed to _do something._ Peter was still watching The Office, Morgan was texting someone — probably Maddie, or one of Ginger’s kids.

Pepper smiled for a moment, watching her kids just be there, _together,_ before the reality of the situation hit her again.

Tony. Being an idiot. Right.

She was about to say something; to try see if they wanted to do something or go somewhere, but a knock on the door of their motel room stopped her — and that was all it took for her to become Virginia Stacy instead of Pepper Potts.

Pepper went across to the door, and opened it slightly, the chain still closed, just in case.

It was fine, though. It was only May and Rhodey.

Rhodey, who she’d called yesterday out of the blue, for the first time in ten years — she _definitely_ had some explaining to do. She hadn’t talked to Rhodey — even through _work —_ since 2015.

It was probably going to be less fun to talk to the man than it had been with May. She’d spoken to May on and off during the last twelve years — they both put in some effort to stay in touch, so long as Morgan didn’t know. She’d sent Rhodey some flowers and chocolate when he had his accident in Germany, and got paralysed, but it was anonymous — just in case. Just because of how it would’ve affected Tony. In case Peter had seen.

Pepper quickly opened the door, and ushered May and Rhodey inside. May gave her a short hug when she entered, and Rhodey gave her a bit of a confused half-hug, half awkward pat.

“Kids!” She called — trying not to think about the fact that she was saying _kids,_ like _both_ of them. That they were both there with her. “May and Rhodey came over!”

“And we brought food!” Rhodey exclaimed. “Cheeseburgers!”

“It’s _breakfast,_ Rhodes.” May rolled her eyes, then she pulled Peter up off his bed to hug her. “Alright, Peter, hug me. It’s okay, honey, alright? Your dumbass dads alcohol tolerance has changed since he went sober, and it turned him into a cazzo idiota.”

_[(Fucking idiot.)]_

“Lo so, May.” Peter murmured into Mays shoulder. “So che non lo voleva dire sul fatto, e che era il — l'alcol. Ma fa ancora schifo, sai?”

_[(I know, May. I know he didn't mean it on the fact, and that it was the -- the alcohol. But it still sucks, you know?)]_

Peter and Morgan both had a habit of doing that — accidentally switching between languages when prompted just a tiny bit. Pepper was glad that she’d kept teaching her daughter Tonys mothers language after what happened.

She still remembered the first time that she heard him speak Italian. It was when the kids were babies; two or three days after they were born, and he’d just — started speaking it. It started with _il mio bambini — my children —_ and then he’d started crying. Pepper had already known that they were Italian. That their mom was Italian, and grew up in Italy. She’d heard May speak it before, but never Tony. But after he’d said that one sentence — _il mio bambini —_ he’d kind of broken down. Hidden in the lab for a few hours so that she didn’t see his tears. 

He’d told her that he knew Italian — really well — but hadn’t spoken it to anyone but May since Maria Stark died. That he only said a few things, like _ti amo —_ I love you — and _sorella —_ sister — to May, sometimes. And that he knew his mom would’ve loved their children.

That’s why she’d ended up learning it. Why she’d taught it to Morgan — she’d owed Tony that much.

But now, her daughter knew _Russian._ Which was just _confusing._

“I know honey.” May whispered, rising her chin on Peters head, still holding the teenager close. “But it’s okay. He’s getting better, then you can yell at him a bit, stay with your mom for the rest of the week, and he’ll be all fixed up by the time you’re back at his place.”

“Ебать алкоголь.” Peter pulled away, rolling his eyes and pulling away from May, to look at Morgan. “Кроме того, ебать Говард Старк.”

_[(Fuck alcohol. Also, fuck Howard Stark.)]_

“Mm — yeah!” Morgan exclaimed, “Наркомания может быть наследственной — так что, вероятно, большой фактор в том, что папа имеет проблемы с алкоголем.”

_[(Addiction can be hereditary — so that is probably a big factor in the fact that dad has alcohol issues. )]_

Pepper had no clue what her kids were on about, but… well, they seemed happy enough to be talking to each other in Russian, and if they were happy with that, so was she.

 _“Children.”_ May laughed. “We don’t _speak Russian,_ guys. Please, for the sake of my sanity, keep it to English or Italian. I can only take so much bullshit on one day, and this stomach pumping shit is taking up all of my patience.”

“Sorry, May!” Morgan grinned. “We were talking about how your dad was a dick!”

“My father _was_ a dick, but I’ve already had a talk about that fucker today, so… yeah, no more of that shit today. Or for the next like, three months.”

“Jesus, you’re as bad as Tony.” Rhodey rolled his eyes, sitting down on Peters bed. May pulled up a chair, from the little kitchen, and Pepper sat in the little arm chair thing. Rhodey started throwing cheeseburgers around, and May passed around drinks and fries. Rhodey kept talking. “You talk about Howard Stark for like, three minutes, and then you refuse to say anything even _remotely_ about your daddy issues for months on end.”

“Starks are made of iron.” May said, shooting the man a wink. “Ah, being conditioned to hide your emotions by your dickhead of a father, even when you were the child that he was more loving towards.”

“Tony does _that_ too.” Pepper added. “It’s not a healthy coping mechanism, May.”

“Eh.” She shrugged, and ate some fries. “Y’know, the Starks are made of iron thing is pretty funny, cause I’m iron deficient.”

“Me too.” Pepper said, at the same time as her daughter exclaimed _“Me too!”_

“Hmm.” May laughed. “Good fucking job, Howard.”

“Little bitch.” Peter muttered, before turning back to his cheeseburger.

“So!” Rhodey interrupted after eating a few fries, and drinking some of his soda. “How in the — what _happened_ here? I swear to god, I saw everyone like, two weeks ago — and — this,” he gestured around vaguely. “Definitely wasn’t a thing.”

“Actually, it kind of was…” Morgan said, sounding a bit nervous. “We, uh — well, it was me, then. Not Peter. And it was only ten days ago.”

“That was _you?_ Seriously?”

Morgan shrugged. “Yeah. It was fun. Nat and May figured it out.”

“Wow.” Rhodey muttered. “Wow. I — that’s a bit crazy.”

“Well, so was finding out that I have a twin sister!” Peter added. “And that my mom is Pepper Potts. And that _nobody_ thought to tell me about the fact that there was a person in Malibu with the same literal genetic make up as me. It would’ve been nice to know, guys.”

“I agree!” Peppers daughter added, between bites of cheeseburger. “Like, we can’t change it now, but it would’ve been nice if you’d just, y’know — _broken up,_ like normal people. Instead of _this._ Please don’t do it again.”

“Yeah, it was — I’m sorry.” Pepper tried. “I — it wasn’t a good thing to do. I fucked up. A lot. We both fucked up.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s fine, mom. It is what is is.” He said the end of the sentence in a weird way.

“ _It is what it is.”_ Morgan echoed, in the same strange voice.

 _“Anyway —“_ Peter started. “It’s been done now. We can’t exactly change it, so — it’s fine.”

“Fun story, I guess?” May gave an awkward laugh. “Fun for high school get togethers in thirty years.”

“Would be —“ Peter rolled his eyes. “If we could _tell people_ who we are — and like, that we’re twins.”

He made a fair point. They — back before everything happened, when Morgan and Peter were still just babies, they’d decided not to tell people — but the agreement that she and Tony had come up with was that when Peter and Morgan were older; when they were _teenagers_ they would revisit the conversation, and give the kids _some_ choice in the matter. Let them see if they _wanted_ their identities to be revealed to the world.

So… they would probably have to have that talk once Tony was fixed up — because Pepper _had_ noticed Morgan getting more and more annoyed about it, and it pretty clear that Peter was too.

Which was fine. It was completely fine. Pepper knew that if _she_ had to pretend to be someone other than herself, she would hate it too — and she would want to have a dramatic reveal, too.

That would be a fun thing to do… but they’d have to wait for Tony to have that conversation.

**_APRIL 14, 2025, 9:24 AM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Peter had stashed an unnecessarily large amount of stuff at the Avengers Compound — and it was nice to have access to all of the stuff he’d hidden again; plus, it had been a month or two since he visited the compound, so it was extra exciting.

Rhodey was taking Morgan on a tour of the compound — and failing to hide his excitement at being able to bond with Peters sister — and his mom was in the MedBay, having a _very_ tense conversation with his dad… and it was _super_ fun that he could hear absolutely everything they were saying.

So he was collecting some of his stashed food — this particular lot of it being hidden in the secret little compartment in the wall at the bottom of the pantry in the common room.

Ah, yes. Sour straps that he’d hidden in there seven months ago. Delicious.

Peter got out of the pantry, with a packet of the sour straps. He still had twelve packets hidden in there, but nobody — except _maybe_ Morgan — needed to know that….

He was a _nice_ newly acquired brother; he would let his sister in on the secret.

Peter lazily flopped down on one of the big couches in the common room, and turned on the big TV that they all shared down there. The Netflix was already on, so he flicked it over to his dads account, and started scrolling through his list….

Maybe he should watch something new? He could watch like… literally _anything_ he wanted…. He wasn’t gonna watch anything new, though. He was going to turn one of the _four_ shows that he watched on repeat back on; Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Good Place, The Office, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

It was a Brooklyn Nine-Nine day — because while he _did_ like watching all of those shows, it was the one he watched the most; so much that it had become something of comfort to him. A coping mechanism of sorts.

He was half way through season two again.

Peter didn’t even really notice when people started coming in and out of the common room and the kitchen. In fact, he didn’t notice until one of them sat down next to him.

“So… you’re watching the television again?”

He let a little snort of laughter at that, and turned to Steve. “Hey, Cap… you sound like a PSA.”

“Please don’t say that in front of Sam and Bucky. They’ll —”

“— I mean, I laugh about them to dad. And to Nat. And Rhodey. I’d say the whole team probably knows by now. “

“And _I’d_ say that I got Tony to save them for me the second I found out that they existed.” Bucky joined them, sitting down and wrapping hid not-metal arm around Steve. “Hey, kid. How’s it going?”

“Eh, same old, same old.”

“Tony got his stomach pumped.” Steve said seriously. “Alcohol poisoning.”

Buckys eyes widened, and he turned to Peter in surprise. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine just staying here for a couple of days, I think — then I’m going back to moms.”

They both turned to him, looking very surprised. It took Peter a moment to realise what he’d said, at which point his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to try take it back.

He was silenced by the bombarde of questions that the couple shot at him. “You know your mom? Who is she?”

“How come Tony never told us who she was? Why’ve you never said anything about her before?”

“I thought you only lived at your dads place?”

“… and I thought that Tony said your mom was out of the picture?”

Peter shrugged. “Not anymore, I guess — cause she’s down in the MedBay arguing with dad about what happened yesterday.”

“… what happened yesterday?” Bucky asked, looking between his fiancé and Peter in confusion.

“Uh, Tony —“

“He got really drunk.” Peter said simply. “He got really, really drunk.”

“But he’s three years sober.” Bucky looked very concerned. “He’s _three years sober._ What sort of idiot gets super drunk when they’re three years and have a history of alcoholism?”

Peter just shrugged again. “Dad, apparently. Yeah, me and Morgan —“ Bucky and Steve both looked like they wanted to say something, but he waved them off.“—did something really stupid — like, we could’ve gotten pretty hurt from it — and so dad freaked out, and had a bunch of alcohol, and, uh — yeah. Came to moms to talk about what we did, and then basically said that it was _his_ fault, and that if we got hurt it would be on _him,_ and _then_ he said that he was leaving — so that he couldn’t unintentionally make us possibly get hurt again. Lots of fun.”

The two super soldiers paused, staring at him, then exchanging a look. Bucky sighed loudly. “Shit, kid. That’s rough.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He started eating another sour strap. “He’ll be okay, and from what I’ve heard, he barely remembers what happened, and he _definitely_ didn’t mean it, so he’ll stay here for a bit, and then Morgan and I’ll be staying at his place again on Sunday.”

“And Morgan is…?”

“Oh!” Peter grinned at them. “Yeah, Morgan’s my sister. She lived with mom, before.”

Steve and Buckys jaws both dropped. “Yeah. We actually only figured out that _her_ mom was _my_ mom, and that _my_ dad was _her_ dad because they moved to New York from Malibu a few months back, and then we met at school, and I had to show her around… and, well, I figured out that Pepper Potts was her mom, and then we talked about it the next day — and then _she_ figured out that we had the _same_ parents, and we did a little switchy switchy, but it only lasted for like…” He couldnted the days off on his fingers, “Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday — five days! It only lasted for five days, and then mom and dad found out — and now we live half with mom and half with dad!”

“Wait, wait, wait, kid, go back —“ Bucky said, waving his metal arm around as he spoke, looking _very_ fucking confused. “— _Pepper Potts_ is your _mother?”_

“Yeah.” Peter laughed. “That was basically my reaction.”

“So Pepper Potts is your mom.” Steve said slowly, clearly trying to make sense of it. “Tony Stark is your dad, Pepper Potts is your mom, and you have a sister — that you go to school with? Is she older than you — I thought your dad was still not… _great_ before _you_ were born…”

“Oh, yeah. He wasn’t. That’s why we exist, actually — alcohol and New Years Eve and bad decisions — all that fun stuff.” Peter grinned. “Morgan and I are twins — _I_ am the oldest, though. That’s why I had to show her around when she moved to Midtown, cause we’re the — well we’re born on the same day — but we’re the same age. And Mister Harrington was in charge of her transfer, and he likes me, so… yeah. Thanks, Mister Harrington, without you I prolly never would’ve found my mom and my twin sister.”

“That is…”

“A lot to take in.” Steve finished Buckys sentence. Peter shot them awkward finger guns, and Steve shook his head in amazement. “Are you… are you doing okay with all of this? It must be a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, it’s — it’s — it’s a lot… but at the same time, this all feels weirdly normal — and this is gonna sound super cliche, but I think that I realise now that I was _missing_ something, before I found Morgan. Like, something was always a bit off — and it wasn’t just that I didn’t have a mom — and now, being around Morgan is just… normal. It’s normal. And somethings I have little moments where I’m like _‘holy shit —‘“_

“— language —“

“— _I have a twin sister’,_ but then straight after I’m like, _‘yeah, duh, I have a twin sister. That’s normal’…_ and now that she’s around, I know that life _without_ her was weird — weirder than life _with_ her, and it’s —“ Peter let out a soft laugh. “— yeah. It’s weird, how used to it I am, when it’s only been like, a month.”

Bucky stole one of his sour straps. “I can kind of get that. I forgot about Steve, and then after Princess — sorry, _Queen._ She was Princess back then, but now she’s _Queen —_ after _Queen_ Shuri helped me get rid of my Hydra conditioning, I saw him and it was… well, I just _knew,_ and I _knew_ how much I loved him, and — well, it’s a pretty different situation, but I still get moments where I go, _‘holy shit —_ “

“— language —“

“Yeah, whatever, punk.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Where I go, _‘holy shit, I can’t believe I’m here, with this amazing man, I love him so much, and this is crazy’,_ but then I realise that it’s completely normal, and being with him is so _natural.”_

“I mean… well, I’m not going to try compare me meeting my twin sister and managing to find my mom through her to you almost dying then being brainwashed by Hydra for seventy odd years, but… well, I guess the same sort of concept was at play; you two both stayed the same age for seventy years, then both got permanently unfrozen within the same half decade, Morgan and I were both raised by one of our parents, then both ended up at the same school together. Like the one in a million chance that it would occur, and it did — it’s like, way less intense than what you guys had — and like… yeah. No nazi’s or that involved. It —“

Oh fuck, he was rambling. He needed to stop rambling.

“— It, uh — yeah. Yeah.” He shook his head slightly, to stop himself from going on, and instead stared blankly at the screen of the large TV.

The old couple didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, they both just looked confused. Steve stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. “So you have a twin sister?”

“Yeah.”

“And your mom is Pepper Potts.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t know about your twin sister or your mom until your _sister_ started at your school, after spring break?”

“Yeah.”

“And your sister is _here?_ And your mom is _here?”_

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Cap, mom and Morgan are here. And they exist. And I haven’t known them all that long — what’s it to you?”

“It’s just… a lot to take in.” The Captain murmured.

“I mean… _yeah,_ it is.” He shrugged. “Rhodey’s been giving Mo a tour — do ya’ll wanna meet my little sister?”

“Im not _that much_ younger than you, dude!” Morgan interrupted, flopping down on the couch next to him, and stealing a sour strap, shifting slightly to watch the TV half heartedly. “Also, how the hell —“

“— language —“

“— do you keep magically pulling all this food from the air?” She stole a second sour strap. “I swear to god, you have a different food every time I see you!”

He grinned, and winked at his sister. “Food stashes, my dearest little sister. I’ll show em to you at some point.”

“Not your little sister, bro, we were born on the same day!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Peter rolled his eyes, then turned to Bucky and Steve, grinning. “Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, meet Morgan Potts; my _younger_ twin sister.”

**_APRIL 14, 2025 2:19 PM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

The tension in the room was palpable; it could be cut with a knife. The four of them, crowded around a round wooden table, with a food platter in the middle of them, which was either a peace offering (though Morgan wasn’t sure which party was actually _offering_ the peace), or it was a conversation buffer — and attempt to make things _less_ awkward than they already were.

And they were already very, _very_ awkward, and very, _very_ tense.

She and her brother sat next to each other, very close together, and their parents were almost directly opposite one another, seemingly having a silent argument that neither she nor her brother were included in _or_ could understand.

Morgan couldn’t wait for this conversation to be over — not just from the unpleasantness of it all, and how mad her parents undoubtedly would be, but also because of the train wreck that their last attempt at it had been. It had been a fucking _disaster._

Her dad cleared his throat nervously, his eyes travelling around the group as he did so. “Uh… I’ll start, I guess — I promise I’m not drunk again” He ended with a half hearted smirk, his attempt at maybe humour falling flat. “Okay. Okay, I just want to start by saying… I’m sorry. I’m so, so, _so_ sorry — yesterday wasn’t meant to happen. I was — I was drunk, and I wasn’t thinking straight and I _know_ that its no excuse for acting like a complete jackass, but… I hope that you can all forgive me — one day. At some point. In time.”

“Ti perdono, papà.” Morgan heard her brother whisper under his breath. “Ti prometto che ti perdono.”

_[(I forgive you, dad. I promise that I forgive you.)]_

And, well… she forgave their dad, too. He made a mistake, he fucked up; everyone did that. What really mattered to _her_ was the fact that he was admitting to his mistakes, and… well, that he seemed to be setting himself up to devise a plan to help himself.

Her dad sighed. “May had to go back to the city, and she promised that she’d destroy the last of the alcohol hidden at one, and take away my access to _her_ liquor. And if I try to buy it through FRIDAY, she’ll lock me in the lab, lecture me, and then make me watch Cap’s PSAs for a couple of hours as punishment. “He explained. “And if I try to buy it on one of my cards, it’ll decline, and do the same thing.”

“That’s good.” Their mom replied bluntly, clearly trying to stop the fondness from leaking into her tone. “It’s good that you’re trying to improve. I’m — I’m proud of you.”

Morgan didn’t miss the soft expression that crossed her fathers face at that comment.

The man chuckled. “I, uh — you shouldn’t be, Pep. It… it only took me three years to snap… _but_ we’re not here to talk about my issues with alcoholism. We’re here about Pete and Maguna.”

“Merda.” Peter whispered. He glanced at her.“Morgan, siamo fottuti. Così fottuto. Completamente fottutamente scopata”

_[(Shit. Morgan, we’re fucked. So fucked. Completely fucking fucked.)]_

“Non giurare, Peter.” Their mom murmured, shooting Morgans brother a pointed look. “Per favore.”

_[(Don’t swear, Peter. Please.)]_

“Mi dispiace, mamma.” Peter apologised, before shooting her a grin and muttering under his breath, “Мы так трахаемся.”

 _[(I’m sorry, mom._ [Italian] _We are so fucking fucked._ [Russian]. _)]_

Morgan snorted in laughter, and her dad rolled his eyes, before speaking very exasperatedly. “Peter, _no.”_

“Питер, да _.”_ Peter shot back with a shit eating grin.

_[(Peter, yes.)]_

“Питер…” Morgan said quietly, sighing. “Может нет. Будет еще хуже, если мы подождем дольше.”

_[(Peter... maybe not. It will be worse if we wait longer.)]_

“Right.” Her twin nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. Okay!” He grinned at their parents. “Yell at us!”

“Gladly.” Their mom said — not quite yelling, but definitely not with a kind tone. “Peter _James Stark,_ becoming Spider-Man without telling anyone and getting your suit taken away was one thing, but — but _this?_ You can’t just _steal back_ your suit when your dad took it away with the explicit purpose of _protecting you._ You couldn’t have waited another week or two? Would that have been so hard?”

Morgan shuddered, despite the anger being directed at Peter rather than her. Her brother was slouching in his chair, looking at their mom guiltily.

“And I — I don’t _want_ to be mad at you, honey, but — but you can’t just _do that._ You — all your dad wanted was to keep you safe; _that’s_ why he took your suit away. I know for a fact that he had every intention of giving it back to you next time you were with him — after updates. You — he didn’t _know_ that you were back out there, so he couldn’t _help you._ He couldn’t look out for you do you get that?”

“Yes, I…” Morgan fell awful for her brother; he looked and sounded so lost and guilty. “I understand, I — I’m sorry, I — I messed up, mom, I… I just wanted to _help.”_

“Pete…” Their dad held a hand to the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Kid. Underoos. Buddy. You… we _get_ that you want to help, but — it’s not your _responsibility_ to. And even if it was, that doesn’t excuse you stealing back your suit.”

Morgans brother rolled his eyes subtly, so that neither of their parents could see it. “I _know_ that I shouldn’t have stolen the suit back, dad. And I get it, okay? I messed up, you have every right to be mad, I won’t do it again, but…” He shrugged slightly. “It _is_ my responsibility, dad. Don’t you get it? I _need_ to do this.”

Their father frowned. “Pete… it’s really not. You’re fourteen. You don’t — It’s not your responsibility to try look after all these people.”

“It _is_ though, dad.” Peter argued. “You know what Ben told me? When he died?”

Both of Morgans parents froze, and she grabbed her brothers hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

He kept going. “He said…. Well, he basically said that he loved me, and to tell May that he loved her, and then — and then he said, _‘with great power comes great responsibility.’_ I was with him when he _died,_ dad, and _that_ is what he said to me. How else was I meant to react when I got these powers, and I had that hanging around in my head? I had the _great powers,_ which gave me the _responsibility, and_ I had fourteen odd years of watching you and Uncle Rhodey and Aunt Nat almost kill yourselves from all the _hero_ under my belt — add that to the dead Uncle, and there’s no way I’m going to just… not help.”

“I’m —“ Their dad sighed again. “I’m not trying to tell you not to help, I’m — I’m trying to tell you that it’s _dangerous._ That you shouldn’t steal your suit back — _especially_ without telling me. You _need_ to _tell me_ this stuff, so that I can _protect you.”_

“I don’t _need_ protecting anymore, dad!” Peter snapped. “I’m not four anymore! I can get the train to school and be fine! I can go patrolling and not get hurt!”

“If you really want to get the train… well, that’s a _different_ conversation. All I’m saying is that Spider-Man could be dangerous, and I would rather _know_ when your patrolling, so that I can be on stand-by in case something _does_ happen.”

“Okay.” Peter crossed his arms across his chest. “Fine.”

“Okay.” Their dad took a deep breath. “Now _Morgan May Potts —“_

Oh shit, oh shit, oh _shit._

“— I don’t know _why_ you felt the need to make yourself a suit, or _why_ you decided to go out patrolling with Pete, but — you _shouldn’t have._ It’s probably a lost cause now, because we all know that _all of us_ are way too stubborn — _but —_ Morgan, you’re just a _person._ You don’t have _powers_ , like Peter, you —“

“— so are _you,_ dad.” Morgan murmured, looking her father in the eyes. “You’re just a person too — you’re a person with a _heart condition,_ and you do stuff _way_ more dangerous than we do. Hell, you still have that thing,” She gestured to the blue light of the arc reactor glowing through his AC/DC shirt. “In your chest. I’m perfectly healthy, and I’m not completely useless when it comes to fighting.”

Her dad looked at her mom briefly. “Happy?”

“Happy.” Her mom confirmed.

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Yes. You both got _Happy_ to teach us how to fight. So I can handle myself. I’m completely fine out there, _and_ I’m with Peter. We look after each other.”

There was a short silence, before her mom spoke quietly. “Why did you make it? Why did you do it?”

She shrugged. “Peter. Katie. Dad. Lots of reasons.”

Their dad raised his eyebrows. “Katie?”

“In my defence —“

 _“ — In her defence,”_ Peter cut her off. “That one’s completely on me. My sixth sense was going crazy whenever Katie was around, and that _usually_ means that there’s danger around, and she _was_ acting pretty sus… and, like, she didn’t exactly like us at first.”

“So I may’ve kinda sorta made the suit to investigate her a lil bit.” Morgan finished for her brother. “We, uh — we misjudged her. She’s nice, and she was just stressed cause of the stuff she was up to at SHIELD.”

“Mm.” Peter nodded. “And then she picked us up from school and bought us drinks and told us everything that we found out anyway, so… _maybe_ don’t tell her that we followed her home.”

“Также не говорите ей, что мы ворвались в ее дом и прошли через ее вещи.” Morgan muttered quietly in Russian.

_[(Also do not tell her that we broke into her house and went through her belongings.)]_

_“Morgan May Potts!”_ Her dad gasped over dramatically, before turning serious. “Wait did you actually do that?”

“Да…” She trailed off.“Может... Типа — Только вид, хотя! Мы просто пытались выяснить, планировала ли она убить тебя, или выпустить информацию в прессу, или украсть план костюма, или что-то еще!”

_[(Yes… Maybe… Sort of. Only sort of, though! We were just trying to figure out if she was planning to kill you, or release information to the press, or steal a suit plan or something!)]_

“I don’t really appreciate this.” Her mom said quickly. “What are you guys talking about?”

“How — even though it wasn’t our smartest idea yet — we were justified in following Katie, cause we were just worried that she was gonna try kill dad, or out us to the press, or like, steal suit plans.” Peter said quickly. “I just… y’know, might’ve accidentally let her in on my paranoidness. Sorry.”

Their mom looked at Peter sympathetically. “It’s… well, _stalking_ isn’t good — but at least you had good intentions.”

Morgan grinned — and she knew that her brother was doing so as well.

“So… I’m gonna need the suits back. Again.” Their dad said finally, after a moments pause. “When you guys come back at the end of the week, we can all go into the lab and work on some updates and more safety features and all that jazzy stuff.”

“Oh, and we can have another one of these _lovely_ talks about _rules_ for when you’re patrolling.”

“And we won’t be as lenient this time.”

Morgan shrugged. “Kay. That seems fair.” She turned to her brother. “That’s pretty alright, isn’t it? Sound okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Awesome.” Her brother nodded. “Yeah. It’s cool. I promise I won’t steal it back again.”

“If you do that again, I’ll make you stay with Sam for a week. Both of you. Either of you — that’s the punishment for breaking whatever rules we make next week.”

“No.” Peter whispered. “No, father, please, why hath thou forsaken thee in such manner? Why doth thee not wish for the sanity of mine to remain?”

Morgan stared at her twin, then turned to her mom. _‘What on Earth?’_ She mouthed.

 _‘No idea?’_ Her mom replied silently, looking equally confused. Then she spoke properly. “Whether or not they have to stay at Sam Wilsons place as punishment, they’re grounded, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Their dad agreed. “Definitely.”

“Okay. Morgan, Peter, you’re both grounded. Two weeks.”

They both grumbled in protest, but their mom stopped them. “It’s either be grounded for two weeks, or give up the… _vigilantism._ Your choice.”

“Grounded!” Morgan exclaimed. “Yep, awesome, cool, we’re grounded.”

Peter nodded hastily in agreement. “Yep. My crops are watered, my wig is snatched, my eyebrows are on fleek, my tide pods are delicious, my hotel is trivagoed and my ass is grounded — and I am _more_ than okay with that.”

“Get in loser, we’re getting grounded.” Morgan added. “I used to be in a band…”

“Y-M-C-A!” They both sang loudly. “It’s time to stay at the Y-M-C-A!”

Their parents both looked very disappointed — both looking like that dad from the Shawn Mendes Stitches vine.

Then, their mom cleared her throat slightly. “I actually, uh… wanted us to talk about something else, as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *writes 6000 words in three days* *loses motivation* *waits another week until my motivation returns* *finishes up in another three days*
> 
> me:wHat ThE jEsUs FuCk HoW iN tHe NamE oF tHe ToFu GoDs DiD tHis HapPeN


	14. PART THIRTEEN

**_APRIL 14, 2025 2:32 PM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Peters mom cleared her throat slightly. “I actually, uh… wanted us to talk about something else, as well.”

“Yeah?” His dad asked, looking a bit confused. “We only said we were gonna talk about… all _that.”_

“I kind of wanted to have us all here for this one, because it’s… well, it’s completely about _them._ And what _they_ think is going to be best, for _them.”_ She let out a long breath, then smiled. “We probably could have talked about this earlier, actually, but it’s about the kids, so..”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course. Completely get it.” Tony smiled at Pepper briefly. “Go on, then… maybe try keep it quick, though — Nat wants us all outta here for ice cream at quarter past three.”

“That still gives us forty five minutes, so we can take as long as we want to, Tony.”

“Well… I don’t _know —_ I don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“Alright — so, I was listening to some things that you guys were talking about, last night and this morning,” She nodded to Peter and Morgan. “And I think we should consider loosening the reigns a bit.”

“How so?” His dad asked.

“With… who they are. I think that, if they want, they should be allowed to start _telling people.”_

Peter _froze._ Their mom wanted to give him the chance to — _tell people._ To not be _faking_ their _entire lives._ To be able to tell people that they were twins, and who their parents were and the rest of their family.

That would be _amazing._ That would be so, _so_ cool.

Peter grinned. “Wait, you’re serious? You’ll let us tell people who we _actually_ are? This isn’t — this isn’t a joke? Because that would be a really sucky joke. And it wouldn’t be funny if it’s a joke — actually, it would just be plain _rude_ if it isn’t a joke. Please tell me it isn’t a joke.”

His mom laughed. “It’s not a joke, honey. It’s… well, obviously we’re all going to need talk this through, cause it _is_ a big thing. A big decision that we’re going to need to talk about.”

Peters father was still frozen, blinking at his mom in shock. “You… think we should… _tell people?”_

His mom shrugged. “I think they’re old enough to decide what they want the world to know about him — we never set a certain time for when we’d tell people when they were born. Plus, if we let people know a _little bit_ about them, they’ll be less curious about it. People will make less theories.”

 _“That’s_ actually a good point.” Morgan added, nodding. “Literally just look at _anything_ about us on twitter — everyone seems to _ship us._ With _each other._ That’s _so gross.”_

“It is gross.” Peter agreed. “It’s really, _really_ gross — but that wouldn’t happen if we told people. I think it’s a great idea.”

“So do I.” Morgan agreed. “It would make life _so much_ less stressful.”

“I…” Their dad sighed. “I get where you’re coming from. I really, really do. But… I think we should be careful about this. Telling people more about you is… well, we’d need to be careful with how we do it. Press, people with vendettas, the paps — they’ll be around constantly, instead of just the one off person that finds us out when your faces are covered. People will _know,_ so we’ve gotta be _very_ careful with how we do this — if we _do,_ and it seems like we will, cause you guys both seem to want to do that.” He smiled awkwardly.

“That’s… a think that’s a pretty small price to pay actually, dad.” Morgan said. “Like, it would be very… _freeing.”_

 _“Yeah.”_ Peter agreed. “Oh my god, it would be _so much_ easier. We could just like… exist. Without all the fake identity stuff.”

“We’ll just need to be careful how we handle it. The paps are the worst.” His dad frowned. “And… well, your entire lives will be tracked by the media. They’ll follow your every move… I just — if this is what _you_ guys think is best, then we can start setting it up, do a press conference, all of that.”

Their mom grabbed their dads hand over the table. “I know you’ve always been afraid of this, Hon,” Their mom murmured. “I know that you’re terrified of this. I’m proud of you.”

Peters dad snorted. “Once again, you shouldn’t be proud of me for that — but, hey. As long as they’re sure about it.”

“Are you both sure about it?” His mom asked. “Like, _completely_ sure about this?”

“I think I am.” Peter nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure I want to be able to not have a whole fake life. This’ll be fun, I think.”

“Ooh, you can whip out the hologram phone in public.” Morgan teased him, wiggling her eyebrows. “Oh, _and_ you can steal some of dads sunglasses, but ones that have _FRIDAY_ in them.”

“Oh, well _you_ can take over the school system and organise everyone’s lives in an unnervingly particular way.”

She scoffed. “Oh, I’m _sorry_ that I’m an impulsive planner… sometimes.”

“Dude.” Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re not just _sometimes_ an impulsive planner. Your impulsiveness is weirdly deliberate and planned. You don’t _properly_ wing things.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know there were certain _types_ of winging.” His sister rolled her eyes.

“It’s the lack of big brain-ness for me.” Peter teased.

“It’s the coffee addiction for me.”

“It’s the over planning for me.”

“It’s the never preparing for _anything_ for me.”

“It’s the painting addiction for me.”

“It’s the hologram phone for me.”

Peter laughed. “Anyway, we _are_ sure about it.”

His dad smiled slightly. “So you’re sure that you’re sure?"

“Yep!” Peter and his sister exclaimed at the same time; that super fun twin thing that honestly creeped him out — because they weren’t doing it on _purpose!_ “We’re sure!”

“Okay.” His mom smiled softly. “Okay. Alright. That… we can arrange that. To happen.”

“Awesome!” Peter and his twin sister exclaimed together.

**_APRIL 14, 2025 2:57 PM — JACKIES ICE CREAM PARLOUR, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Natasha took them all to a small, family run ice cream parlour about half an hour away from the compound — Jackies. Jackies was cool. They had fifty flavours — which was just amazing.

There were only a few people there — a couple with a couple of little kids, a little group of twelve year old, and an old man with a dog.

It was weird, being outside, in the world, with her… sort of aunt (maybe?), and both of her parents, with _none_ of them disguised. With _none_ of them acting under false pretences. Their earlier conversation meant that Morgans parents were willing to chill with the over-the-top rules for the time being, and then, when they were _undeniably_ outed by the media, they would have a press conference, and clear it all up.

“Riley,” Natasha said as she walked up to the counter, smiling at the teenager that was manning it. “How’re you, kid?”

The teenager smiled at Natasha, looking somewhat nervous. “Hi, Miss Romanoff! I’m alright — my cat got better, so that’s fun.”

“Glad to hear it.” She nodded. “I’ll have the usual, thanks.”

Riley smiled, and started scooping up ice cream into a chocolate covered cone.

 _What the hell?_ Morgan gaped at the interaction. “Что... ебать? Тетя Наташа регулярно в этом месте мороженого? Что? Почему? Как? Наташа Ромонова любит мороженое? С тех пор, как? Я не понимаю — _Питер!”_

_[(What... the fuck? Is auntie Natasha a regular at this ice cream place? What? Why? How? Natasha Romonoff likes ice cream? Since when? I don’t understand — Peter!)]_

Peter snorted in laughter. “Я говорила тебе, что она втайне огромная мягкая.”

_[(I told you she's secretly a huge softie. )]_

Natasha turned around and glared at Morgan and her twin brother — looking every bit like the scary Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, that the media and the general public knew — rather than Nat, her and Peters aunt. “Возьми это обратно, парень.” She said lowly. “Не смей ходить и говорить людям, что я мягкая. Нет.”

_[(You take that back, boy. Don't you dare go around telling people that I am soft. No.)]_

“Прости, тетя.” Peter smiled. “Я не скажу людям, что ты мягкая. Я скажу им, что вы не мягкие - или я просто не буду говорить о вас с ними, потому что я до сих пор технически тайной личности.”

_[(Sorry, auntie. I will not tell people that you are soft. I will tell them that you are not soft - or I just won't talk about you to them, because I still technically have a secret identity. )]_

“Хорошо.” Nat said, smiling slightly, and then turning back to Riley to grab her ice cream from him. “Thanks, Riley. What do you guys want?"

_[(Good.)]_

The guy — Riley — looked dumbfounded at the presence of the rest of them, seeming to only have noticed that Natasha wasn’t alone when they started talking to her in Russian. “You —“ He pointed between her mom and dad, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. “— You’re Tony Stark. And Pepper Potts. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are here. Natasha Romanoff was one thing, but — oh my god, _Tony Stark_ and _Pepper Potts_ are here — uh — uh, what would you like, ma’am? Sir? I’m a huge fan — of both of you — by the way.” Then, he seemed to process Peter and Morgan. “Oh my god, you have your children here. Oh my god, they look the same. Oh my god, Tony Starks son and Pepper Potts daughter are tw—“

“Ah, ah, ah.” Her dad cut the poor confused ice cream guy off. “You saw nothing. Here, keep this…” He slipped a hundred across the counter. “I can give more, if you want.”

“Oh, uh — N-no, si-sir. It-it’s cool. This is fine.” He gave a weak smile.

Morgans dad grinned. “Okay. Well, I’ll have the cinnamon and ginger, normal cone — what do you guys want.”

“Ugh, it’s _impossible_ to choose!” Morgan exclaimed. “Nat, you better bring me back here.”

“Хорошо. Обещаю.” Nat nodded.

_[(I will. Promise.)]_

“Спасибо!” Morgan grinned. “Okay, can I please have the salted caramel? Thanks.”

_[(Thank you!)]_

“I’ll have the, uh… Oreo cheesecake.” Her brother added. “Morgan I swear to чертов бог, if you don’t let me try that, I won’t hesitate to stabby stab. “

_[(Fucking god,)]_

“Lovely.” Morgan rolled her eyes at him. “Love you too.”

“Of course you do.” Peter shot back. “Everyone loves me. It’s a curse. I literally can’t escape all the people that love me. They’re obsessive. Obsessed — with their love. For me. You’re just jealous that your superpower isn’t having everyone you meet fall in love with you.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Such a shame I don’t have superpowers.”

“Well, I do.” Peter grinned. Morgan panicked for a second, thinking he was outing himself, before he continued. “I have the power to make every single person I meet fall in love with me… well, they say it’s a superpower, but it’s more of a curse. I literally can’t argue with people, cause they all love me to much to try fight me.”

“Oh, wow.” Morgan snorted. “That must be _awful._ I feel such _immense_ pity for you. Your life is so tragic.”

“Yeah, it —“

“—Here.” Their mom cut Peter off, handing him his ice cream, then handing Morgan hers, before taking her own from Riley the counter guy. She smiled at Riley. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He said, still sounding like he was in shock — from who they were. Morgan had to stop herself from laughing.

Natasha led them to a corner booth, and they all sat down around the round table. Nat grinned. “So, Pep, what’s this I hear that _you_ have got yourself a little _admirer.”_

Morgans mother groaned, her head dropping. “I — ugh! The guy? In those photos? He’s Jason, he’s been trying to get me to go on a date with him for six moths, I keep saying no, he keeps asking. He won’t. Leave me. Alone. And I keep rejecting him! I’ve said no, every time, and he just _won’t stop!_ Like, seriously, you’d think he’d drop it by now, but he won’t. And _now_ the Media’s got it all twisted and think I’m _with him,_ and — just no.”

Her dad laughed. “I’d have thought you still carry Pepper spray around with you.”

“Just because I pepper sprayed Happy _one time,_ twenty five years ago —“

“— so that you could came talk about the accounting department with meeee—“

“— don’t flatter yourself, Tony. And, it was _once._ I stopped carrying that stuff around _years_ ago.”

“Shame.” Natasha observed. “You could tell people it was named after you. That _you_ were _it’s_ namesake. Bet they’d believe you, too.”

Morgan laughed. “And it would ward off Jason the evil.”

“You know what?” Her mom said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe I will. Just pepper spray him next time he comes near me. He’s… a bit touchy-feely, so there’s reason for me to do it.”

“Pepper spray Jason the evil mystery man, 2025.” Peter whispered to her, making her laugh again.

Her mom sighed. “Yeah. He’s like — well, he’s like how Killian was — before the whole AIM, extremis, Mandarin, supervillain thing.”

“Oh, _no.”_ Her dad said.

“Yeah.” Her mom laughed. “I mean… let’s hope he doesn’t… y’know, kidnap me and try kill the President.”

“Mm, well, I won’t ditch him on a rooftop, if that helps at all.” Her dad muttered. “And I won’t… get presumed dead again.”

“And please don’t blow up another house.” Natasha said slowly. “That was a disaster last time. Then Biden won’t get almost killed.”

“Young Biden looks like Captain Rogers.” Morgan added.

“Yeah, they’re the same person.” Peter laughed. “He’s just like, twenty years younger than Cap, though.”

“I’m telling Steve.” Natasha murmured. “And then Bucky’ll attack you.”

Peter finished his ice cream, then snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Bucky won’t attack me. He loves me too much — and if you tell Steve, I’ll tell Wanda what happened to her favourite boots.”

Natasha gasped over dramatically. “No! You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I would.” Morgans brotherwhispered. “And I’ll tell Sam what happened to Red Wing.”

“Oh, now I wanna shut you up.” Natasha smiled at Morgan. “I’m abandoning you now, Peter. I’ll just hand out with Morgan forever.”

“Yeah, we’re cutting you out.” Morgan high fived Nat. “Bye, bitch.”

**_APRIL 14, 2025 7:12 PM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Peter slid into the spare room that his sister was sleeping in for the night, being able to _properly_ slide because he had socks on. “When you’ve wimbled all your wombles and you’ve jingled all your jongles, listen to the flimble flomble of my _fucking_ TANGERINE!”

Morgan looked up from what she was doing, eyebrows raised. “What do you want?”

He scoffed. “To hang out with my awesome twin sister, whomst I love so —“

“— just tell me what you want, dude.” Morgan rolled her eyes, looking back down at what she was — what was she _doing?_

“The _fuck_ are you doing, my dude?” Peter asked his sister, looking at the weird little circle thing that she was painting.

_“Is that your brother? Morgan! That’s so fricking cool!”_

“Yeah, Mads, that’s my brother. Peter, say hi to Maddie.” Morgan lifted her phone up, so that Morgan could see another girl on a video call. “Mads, this is Pete, Pete, this is Mads.”

“Uh… hi?” Peter said, somewhat nervously.

_“Oh my god, hi! Wow, you actually look so much like Morgan — wait, no, you look like your dad! Morgan how the hell did none of us ever realise that you look so much like Tony Stark?”_

Peter laughed a bit uncomfortably, and Morgan rolled her eyes. “I dunno, but dude — I gotta go. I’ll text you later, okay?”

_“Yeah! See ya!”_

“Bye.” Morgan laughed as she hung up the phone. “So what’s up? What d’ya want from me?”

“Wel, uh… what are you _doing?”_

His sister looked down at the circle that she was painting, and laughed. “Don’t mind me, just making Nazi propaganda — for the English thing.”

 _“Dude.”_ Peter rolled his eyes. “That isn’t due for like, three weeks.”

“Im just being _prepared,_ bro.” Morgan deadpanned. “What do you want?”

“Some Nazi propaganda, of course — is that a Hitler youth badge that you’re making?”

“Shut up, I have to for school.”

Peter snorted at his sister. “Don’t let Cap see that — he’ll flip. And then he’ll make sure his and Buckys room is in lockdown, and start yelling at the sky trying to ask Aunt Peggy to help them get rid of the nazis and I would rather not go through that right now.”

Morgan laughed softly, one eyebrow raised, and pushed her glasses up slightly to stop them from slipping off. “That’s talking from experience, I’m guessing?”

“…. maybe.” He murmured. Morgan tilted her head disbelievingly. “Okay fine. Yes. I asked him _one_ question about Nazi Germany, and he fu _c_ king exploded. Turned into the hundred and ten year old man that he really is.”

Peters sister laughed. “Okay, i’ll keep it hidden from Cap — what did you _really_ come here for?”

“Okay, so Katie’s here, and she’s having dinner with us and mom and dad and the team and everyone.” Peter said quickly. “And I think I’ve found a potential person to set her up with.”

“Ooh!” Morgan abandoned her work, and leant forward. “Who? Someone on the team? Well, it _has_ to be someone on the team, cause —“

“— but it doesn’t.” Peter cut her off. “It could, potentially, be an Agent of SHIELD.”Morgan looked confused, and he sighed. “Fury and Hill are here tonight to debrief Steve and Nat on their next mission.”

 _“Maria Hill!”_ Morgan exclaimed. “Oh my god, that’s — that’s _awesome!_ And she’s SHIELD, so that’s perfect, and she — wait, how old is she?”

“Born in ’82.” Peter nodded slightly. “Katie was born in ’79 — so it’s an okay age difference. It’s not an age difference that makes me uncomfy.”

“Yeah.” Morgan agreed. “Yeah, that — that is a perfect one — it would be, uhh…. Marie? Matie? Karia?”

Peter snorted. “Karia sounds like Korea, dude.”

“Yeah, kinda.” Morgan shrugged. “Maybe we could go last names — Reil, or like, Hied.”

 _“Definitely_ not last names.” Peter shook his head. “No, no, no. Reil sounds like you’re trying to say _real,_ and Heid sounds like hide.”

“Yeah, mayhaps not — so Marie or Matie?”

“I reckon Marie. It’s like… I mean, it’s an _actual_ name, not just a ship name, so… yeah. Marie.”

“Our Italian ancestors are quaking.” Morgan murmured. “That’s the French version of Maria.”

 _“Nonna_ is quaking.” Peter corrected his sister. “Cause it’s the French version of _her_ name. La nostra grande nonna e il nostro bisno are quaking — I mean, they’re the ones who named her.”

_[(Our Great Grandma and Great Grandpa)]_

“Yeah…” Morgan nodded. “Anyway, Marie, we’re making it happen tonight. Anything else you need?”

“Oh, yeah — food time. Come on.”

“Wait, what?” Morgan jumped up quite suddenly. “Food’s _now?_ Like, right now? Oh my god. Oh my god, dude, I — what am I meant to do? I’m not ready to have dinner with the _Avengers!_ How do I — how do I act? Do the know I exist? What —“

 _“Morgan.”_ Peter laughed. “It’ll be _fine._ I’ve heard dad tell em all… y’know, who you are. You’ve just gotta sit their, nod, and eat.”

“Okay,” His sister sighed, and then gave him finger guns. “I got this. I’ve _got_ this. It’ll — It’ll be _fine.”_

“It _will_ be fine.” He shot the finger guns right back at her. “You’ll be _so_ fine. And we’ll start making Marie happen.”

“Hell yeah we will!” Morgan exclaimed. “… will I be okay, though?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You’ll be _fine._ Trust me dude, they’re not that scary. They’re a bunch of fucking children.”

“No, but —“ Morgan looked terrified. _“Dude!_ They’re — they’re the _Avengers!_ I don’t know them like you do, I can’t — I can’t just — just be out there, and like — _eat_ with them I —”

“— Morgs.” He cut her off. “Stop _spiralling_ my dude.It’s gonna be _fine —“_

“— but what if it’s _not —“_

“— it _will be._ Trust me dude. You met Steve and Bucky before, and that went fine. Its just gonna be us, them, mom and dad, Katie, Rhodey, uh… May went back home, but Nat’s still here…. Sams here though, Clint isn’t, Thor and Loki and Val aren’t here…So Steve, Bucky, Sam, Wanda and Vision, and _maybe_ Bruce. I dunno where he’s at at the moment. Oh, and Fury and Hill.”

“That’s _so many_ people, dude!”

“Trust me!” Peter started dragging his sister out of her spare room. “It’s gonna be _fun_ bro.”

“If it’s not, you owe me gum.” His sister said. “Lot’s of it.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Kay. I guess I’ll be keeping my gum then.”

Morgan punched him.

**_APRIL 14, 2025 8:05 PM — THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Despite how terrified for it she had been, eating dinner with the Avengers had been very fun — like, surprisingly fun, once she got over the initial shock and terror of the fact that she had _dinner_ with the _Avengers._

Holy shit, Maddie was going to _freak out —_ and, during the holidays, when her best friend came out to New York to visit, maybe her parents would let Maddie meet the Avengers too! She would double freak. Triple freak, even.

It was so crazy to her that Peter was just _used_ to this shit. Like, she thought that _her_ life was crazy, but _Peters?_ Peters life was like — her life, but of steroids. _Crazy! So_ crazy.

And… well, with Maria Hill present, it was even _clearer_ that Katie Reed was a bi disaster. A bi disaster who was _clearly_ very attracted to Maria Hill — which, Morgan didn’t exactly blame her for that, cause Maria Hill was awesome. Marie was well on the way to existing properly. They spent the entire meal talking to each other, and… _sparks. Chemistry._

It would be an exquisite match, when they got together. Which they would — Morgan was sure of it. She would _make_ it happen.

Plus, to make it even _easier_ for them to push Katie and Maria together, and split Katie and their dad together — maybe with the added bonus of their parents getting back together — Katies and Marias connection had gone hand in hand with their mom and dads constant talking — _possible_ flirting.

So… it seemed that things were back on track. Last night — it was strange to think that what happened had only been _yesterday —_ was just like… a minor blip in the road, in the way of their sneaky plans. But now, she and Peter were well on their way to having their plan become _successful._

“Morgan!” Peter walked into the spare room that she was staying in, flopping down on the bed, and staring at his phone. “Dude! Hi! How’s the being preparationedness going? The lack of ability to speedy speedy do things the night before it’s due?”

She rolled her eyes at her brother. “I was raised by _mom,_ Pete, what do you expect? I would be murdered on the daily if I were anything less than _punctual_ in _every_ way.”

“I _wish_ that I got _those_ genes. Honestly, dad, why’d you go this to me.” Her brother rolled his eyes, as he kept looking at stuff on his phone, then turned to her, propping himself up on one elbow. “Seriously — he’s cursed me.”

 _“Technically,_ he _might_ have cursed me, too — addiction can he hereditary, and I mean — I’m his kid, too.”

“Ya _ay!”_ Peter exclaimed, holding a hand out to hi five her. “Cursed genetics club!”

“I mean, It’s not _that bad.”_ Morgan reasoned. “Our parents are both awesome and both of our aunts are cool.”

“Yeah, but moms genes gave us a strawberry allergy, dads gave us shitty eyesight, and our paternal grandfather is _Howard Stark,_ the biggest mother fucker in the history of mother fucking mother fuckers.”

“Hmm, very _eloquently_ put.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “But that _is_ a pretty good point. Howard Stark is a fucking bitch, astigmatism sucks, we have a higher likelihood of getting addicted to shit, and we can’t eat strawberries. _Strawberries!_ Everyone says that strawberries are _so good_ and we can’t fucking _eat them!”_

 _“Tell_ me about it!” Peter exclaimed. “Fucking _strawberries._ You know, I’m _still_ allergic to them — _even_ with the goddamn mother fucking spider bite, I’m allergic to them! Like, I heal from the reactions much, _much_ better than I used to, but… still fucking hurts.”

“Wait!” Morgan dropped her almost finished project. “My _dude!_ You’ve — you’ve _eaten strawberries?”_

“Yeah.” Her brother cringed. “It was… _very_ painful. Hurt _so much._ Got better like that,” He snapped his fingers, “But dude, that hurt like a butt cheek on a stick.”

“Bet.” She laughed slightly at the look on his face. “Still jealous of you though, dude. You’ve _eaten_ a _strawberry.”_

“Zero out of ten, the swelling and throat closing up was _very_ painful; would not recommend. Like, at _all.”_

She scrunched a piece of paper up, and threw it at her brother. “I’m not an _idiot,_ dude. I’m not just gonna _eat a strawberry_ that I’m _deathly_ allergic to. I’m not that dumb.”

“I am.” Her brother snorted, throwing the paper back at her. “Hence how I figured out that I’m _still_ allergic to strawberries.”

Morgan laughed slightly. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“Project Marie is going _very_ well so far.” Peter grinned. “They’re still talking about when and where they got their favourite leather jackets so…yeah, I’d say it’s on track.”

“And project rebirth of Pepperoni?” Morgan asked. “How’s that going?”

“Pepperoni is too obvious, dude.” Peter rolled his eyes. “They’ll figure out that we’re doing a sneaky sneak and trying tp get them back together.”

“I mean… that might not be the _worst_ thing ever.” She reasoned with him. “They could probably do with a little push in the direction of _that._ Plus, _Park_ is a _terrible_ ship name.”

“Good Point.”

“Yeah… _anyway,_ how’s _that_ part of the plan going? Any progress there?”

Peter didn’t say anything.

“Peter…?”

A grin spread across her brothers face. _“They_ went for — for a _walk._ Mom and dad went on a walk. Together. With each other. Looking like they were very happy.”

“A _walk?_ ”

“A walk.” Peter nodded. “They went for a walk.”

Morgan grinned. A walk was good. A walk was a classic old people in love thing. And… well, it probably meant that they were being old and cute — probably talking about like… fun things that happened when they were together, and stuff like that. Catching up on each others lives, a but.

“That’s good.” She smiled at her brother. “That’s very, _very_ good.” Her smile widened, and she clapped her hands together happily. “Oh my god, this is _great!_ This is so, _so great!_ Maria and Katie get together, Katie's out of the closet, and they’re happy. Mom and dad slowly get back together, we all live in our nice, semi-normal townhouse together, we’re all happy.”

“I mean,” Peter laughed a little bit. “Knowing, you know, our family and their track record, we’ll fuck it up somehow.”

Morgan sighed — because he did have a point. They _did_ alwaysseem to hit another road bump every time that things started going right. “I hope we go okay this time, though.: Morgan said. “I… yeah, I hope it goes alright.”

“Me too,” Peter nodded. “God, I hope it goes okay.”

“Yeah.” Morgan whispered. “Yeah. I hope this works.”

**_APRIL 15, 2025 10:35 AM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgans mom had taken them back to the city later last night — so they were staying back in their moms penthouse, for the rest of their week with her.

Then, as planned, they would go back to their dads, and have another _super fun_ conversation about super heroing and their suits and safety and stuff. Then they’d have a week or so before they were allowed to go out patrolling again, and then — and _then,_ the _actually_ exciting thing, in a couple of weeks, they would have a press conference. And tell the world who they were.

And _that_ meant that they could be more open about their identities at school, because they didn’t have to actively _lie_ about them anymore. _That_ meant that she could say stuff about how Peter was her _twin brother._

She was happy about it. Yeah. She was excited by the fact that in a couple of weeks, they would be exposing themselves to the world.

Ned, it seemed, was also very excited about it — and so was Cindy.

“I can’t _believe this!”_ Cindy exclaimed as they walked from the cafeteria to third period — third period Wednesday. HASS. Morgan fucking _hated_ HASS. With a _burning_ passion.

“Yeah?” She raised her eyebrows at her… _maybe_ friend. “You _really_ can’t believe it?”

 _“Morgan!”_ Cindy shook her head. “No! I have known your brother snd your dad for _ever_ — this is like, _very_ off brand for your dad. He like — I thought he’d _never_ let Peter exist to the world as Peter Stark.”

“Yeah, well,” Morgan laughed. “Mom definitely has a _lot_ to do with it.”

“I still can’t believe that _Pepper Potts_ is you and Peter’s mom — like, ahhhhh!” She let out a little squeal. “It’s _so cool!”_

“Honestly, yeah, I’m still trying to figure it out, too. Like, sometimes I just have a moment where I’m like, _‘holy shit, I have a dad’,_ and then I’m like, _‘holy shit, my dad is Tony Stark’,_ and _then_ I’m like, _‘of course Tony Stark is my dad, I live at his house half of the time’,_ and it — like, get it?”

“That is pretty insane.” Cindy laughed, as they sat down in their class. MJ sat on Morgans other side.

“Hey losers.” She said, in what Morgan knew, by now, was typical MJ fashion. “What you talking about?”

“My dad.” Morgan shrugged — because _yay,_ she was _allowed_ to talk about him now! And about her mom, and about Peter being her twin brother, and — and she was just _so excited!_

“Ooh.” MJ said, somehow still managing to sound blunt. “The one with the new girlfriend?”

“Well, I’ve only got one dad.” Morgan said, shrugging again. “Yeah. She’s… possibly out of the way. Maybe. I dunno — she seems to have become very _close_ with one of dads… _work friends.”_

MJ raised her eyebrows sceptically. “You're trying to force her out?”

‘Eh…. I mean, _sort_ of, but to be fair, I thought that there was a possibility that she was a murderer last week.”

“And now?”

“Now she knows that she’s definitely _not_ a murderer.” Cindy offered. “And she’s not a gold digger either. Or someone trying to steal information and stuff.”

“Mmhmm, that too.” She nodded, giving Cindy a little smile. “Katie isn’t a murderer, a gold digger, or a info thief, so we’re in the clear… she’s definitely not gonna stay with my father, though.”

“Why?”

Cindy snorted. “Oh, Michelle,” She shook her head. “You clearly have no clue how insane Morgans family is.”

Morgan shoved her (maybe) friend playfully. _“Dude!”_ She rolled her eyes. “Katie just didn’t know that I existed — she was only expecting my brother. To be honest, my brother didn’t know that I existed, but… y’know. That’s not the point.”

“Hmm.” MJ tiled her head to the side slightly. “Is your dads girlfriend, by any chance, Katie Reed?”

Morgans jaw dropped. _“What?_ How did you — how do you _know that?”_

Michelle just rolled her eyes. “Trust me, Stacy, I’ve been trying to figure Parker out since elementary school, and I have. His dad is Tony Stark. You’re his sister. You guys’ mom is Pepper Potts. I _know…_ I mean, I was only like, eighty five percent sure, but I was right! Suck it! _”_

She just stared at Michelle blankly. “What the _fuck?”_

“Yeah, I, uh… agree. With that. What the fuck?” Cindy was also staring at Michelle in confusion.

MJ laughed. “You and Peter are trying to set Katie and Maria up, aren’t you?”

“Y — yeah…”

“I _knew it!”_ MJ grinned. “Yes! Yes, okay. Okay, _yes,_ I agree, Katie and Maria, great match, I’ll help you make it happen.”

“How… how to you _know her?”_

“She’s my aunt.” MJ shrugged. “Adoptive, but… yeah, she’s my Aunt. She’s gay, so there’s not gonna be a problem getting her to like Katie — the problem will be making sure that Katie doesn’t feel bad about leaving your dad.”

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Morgan grinned. “Peter and I literally had this conversation yesterday — Mom and dad don’t actually hate each other. Actually, I think it might even be the opposite. They only split up because mom didn’t want to have to watch dad die, and… well, they’ve been _very_ lovey dovey the last couple of weeks. _Dad_ even had a little nervous freak out before he dropped us at hers, and he was _blushing. Dad._ Was _blushing.”_

Cindy rolled her eyes. “That guy is a huge softie, I swear. You’d never guess it if you didn’t know him.”

 _“Fury,”_ MJ commented. _“Fury_ is a huge softie. Kind of. Around me and my sisters, at least.”

“Really?” Morgan asked. “He was _terrifying_ when I met him.”

MJ shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve known him forever, so it might just be me and my sisters, but he _definitely_ has a soft side — as long as you call him _Fury_ and not _Nick.”_

Cindy laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Girls at the back!” Their teacher, Mister Stenson, said loudly, effectively making Morgan and her two (maybe, she still wasn’t entirely sure what constituted as friendship) friends out of their conversation. “Please pay attention, we have a test next week.”

“Ughhh.” Cindy groaned, letting her head drop against her desk dramatically. “Why _yyy?_ Why do we have to have a stupid testttt.”

Morgan got out her headphones, and offered one to Cindy. “Distraction from the disappointment that is reality?”

Cindy shook her head slightly. “We’ll get caught, Morgan! And Mister Stenson gets really annoyed about phones.”

“Not if teachers never notice your existence.” Morgan winked. “I mean, ill be kissing _that_ ability goodbye in a couple weeks, cause mom and dad are gonna let us have a press conference and do the whole dramatic reveal and everything, but… well, I may as well enjoy my invisibility while it lasts.”

“Fair point.” Cindy shrugged. “Alright. Gimme and ear.”

Morgan grinned, and gave the second head phone to her friend. (Yes. Cindy was her friend. She was like, ninety percent sure that she and Cindy were friends).

_“I don’t wanna hurt you cause I don’t think it’s a virtue but you and I have come to our end. Believe me when I tell you that I never wanna see you again. And please can you stop calling, cause its getting really boring, and I told you I don’t wanna be friends. Believe me when I tell you that I never wanna see you again.”_

Cindy looked at her with raised eyebrows. “What the heck is this?”

Morgan rolled her eyes at the other girl. “Lily Allen, you uncultured swine. What the fuck sort of music were you raised on?”

“Unlike your parents, Potts, my moms have a perfectly good relationship, and didn’t need to listen to break up songs.

Morgan shrugged. “Fair point. I guess my mom was just constantly either sad or mad about dad, so… Lily Allen. Also, ouch. I’m really, really hurt, bro. Just because my mom let me think that my dad was dead for twelve years and duidnt tell me about my twin brother.”

“It sounds _really_ bad when you say it like that, Morgan.” Cindy frowned. “Like maybe… don’t. Ever. Just like, refrain from phrasing it like that. It makes your mom sound like the villain, and your mom is like — well, I don’t want her to be the villain.”

“I get that.” She agreed. “I mean, she’s my _mom —_ and I don’t really wanna make my mother, whomst I love, sound like a villain.”

“I mean… we can blame your dad, I guess.” Cindy suggested. “I don’t really wanna do that, cause I’ve known him basically forever… but, I mean… it _might_ be on him.”

Morgan weighed the thought around, then shook her head. “Nah, don’t really wanna throw my newly found father under the bus, either.” She shrugged. “Let’s just blame no one and say that this whole entire thing was just one big fucking mistake.”

“Moon! Uh…” The teacher looked over at his laptop for a moment. “Stacy! Stop talking, start taking notes!”

“Sorry sir.” Morgan said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “We’ll stop talking.”

“Good.” Mister Stenson said blandly. “Okay, everyone turn to page ninety three into your text books, chapter 7.3: The Electoral College.”

**_APRIL 17, 2025 4:23 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Mo _om,_ we’re ho _ome!”_ Peter exclaimed as he unlocked the door of his moms apartment with his new keys and pushed the door open so that his sister could walk through in front of him.

 _“Shit!”_ His mom yelled, as though she wasn’t prepared for him and Morgan to be home yet, making Peter freeze. 

He looked up suddenly, realising that he could hear heartbeats other than that of his mother in the room. Four of them. He reached out and grabbed the back of Morgans bag, pulling his younger twin sister back so that she was slightly behind him. “There are _other people_ here.” He whispered.

His sisters eyes widened, and she sucked in a heavy breath. _‘Really?’_ she mouthed, honestly looking terrified.

“Yeah.” Peter murmured under his breath.

 _“Shit.”_ Morgan whispered. _“Shit, shit, shit!_ Is it — is it someone we know? Can you tell?”

He shook his head. “I… I can’t recognise their heart beats. Mom… is on her way over here. Keep quiet. Please.”

Why wasn’t his sixth sense going off? Surely people being in his moms apartment unannounced would constitute being classes as a potential threat. _Surely._

“10-4, copy that.”

Peter scoffed. “Do you even know what that means?”

Morgan stared at him blankly. “Well…. _No._ But I’m pretty sure that it just means yes, right? Or like, all good? Something like that?”

“It means okay.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Okay, how do _you_ know that?” His sister asked.

Peter shushed her, but let out a small laugh anyway. “Ben was a cop, dude. He taught me this sorta stuff.”

“Huh.”

They stayed close to the door as their mom approached them, grinning. “Hey!” She exclaimed. “What are you… doing?”

“Whats going on?” Peter asked quietly. “I hear people… are you alright?”

 _“What?”_ His mom asked, before realisation dawned on her face. _“Oh._ Super hearing.”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed. “So… what’s happening? Who’s here? Like… are we allowed to see them?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Their mom smiled. “Ginger’s here.”

Peter saw his sisters face split into a grin, and realised what was happening — _Ginger._ His moms sister; his _other_ Aunt. Ginger, his mothers younger sister, who didn’t know of his existence, because they had been fighting when he and his sister were born. Ginger, his aunt, who was married and had two kids.

He had cousins, holy shit. How had it taken him so long to realise that he had cousins?

“I… your sister’s here?” He asked stupidly. “Our _aunt?_ With — with her _family?_ With her — her _husband,_ and her — her _kids?”_

“Yes.” His mom laughed slightly. “Ginger and Carson, _and_ Violet and Delilah are all here.”

“Have you, uh… have you told them about Peter? And about dad and… all that stuff?” Morgan asked. “Like, do they know that he exists, do they know why they’ve never met him, who our dad actually _is,_ all that stuff?”

“I have been telling them that fun story since I got them from the airport.” Their mom laughed. “Carson took it like a champ, but Gin is _very_ mad at me for not telling her that she had a nephew out there. The kids… don’t really seem to care.”

“That tracks.” Peters sister sighed. “Alright. Let’s go — Peter, come meet every one on moms side of the family, other than Grandad and Great Aunt Gwen.”

“Okay —“ Peter attempted to hype himself up, because _yes,_ he was _nervous._ Sure, he’d had Cooper and Lila and Nate and Cassie as like… sort-of cousin-like people through his childhood, but he’d never had _actual_ legit cousins. “Okay — okay, okay, okay. I got this. I got this. I got this. I —“

 _“Peter._ Dude. Bro.” Morgan cut off his nervous rambling, putting her hands on his shoulders and drawing him out of his little nerves induced freak out. “You’ll be fine. They’re cool. I mean, ‘Lilah can be a bit much, and she’s going through a pretty scary emo phase, but she’s still cool… just don’t be offended if she tries to like, sell your soul or something.”

“Okay.” He murmured. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be okay — fuck, is this how you felt when we had dinner with the team?”

“Mmhmm.” His sister said bluntly, rolling her eyes. “Suck it up, bro. You’ll live — the Hartley’s don’t bite people. They’re like, the nicest people ever. It’ll be _fine.”_

“Okay. “ Peter took a deep breath. “Okay. Yep. I’m alright. Let’s — let’s do it. Get this over and done with. Let’s go. Yep. Quickly, before, y'know -- well, lets just get it done.”

“Alright, yeah, let’s go.” Morgan started to drag him forward. “Come on.”

She dragged him all the way to the living room, where four people were sitting on the couch; a woman, a man, and two girls.

Gianetta Hartley Potts looked quite a lot like Peters mom, but her hair was bright a bright orangish-red colour, rather than strawberry blonde. Other than that, Ginger — _Aunt_ Ginger, Peter reminded himself; she was his aunt — looked like she could be Peppers twin. She smiled brightly at them, looking eerily like his and Morgans mom. Her husband, Carson, was a kind looking man with curly blonde hair and grey eyes, who grinned at him and Morgan as they entered the room.

Violet, his _older_ cousin (wow, he had actual, _real_ cousins. That was _still_ crazy), had red hair, like Ginger. She looked very… _guarded,_ at Peters presence. She cocked her head to the side slightly, but grinned at Morgan. Then Delilah, his _younger_ cousin, just looked _confused —_ and, just as Morgan had told him, her hair was black, but clearly dyed, as there was light red regrowth at the top.

Peter waved awkwardly. “Hi? I’m, uh — I’m Peter. Peter Par — sorry, Peter _Stark._ Sorry. I’m uh — well, I accidentally… it’s a knee-jerk reaction — I’m not — I’m not used to introducing myself with my, uh — my real name. Yeah. I’m Peter. Peter James Stark. I’m… well, Morgan and I are — we’re twins. I’m older…. I’m, uh — I’m sorry, I’ve never really, uh, done anything like this before… I — we — Morgan and I met at school. She started going to my school and we met, and found out about — about _this,_ and — oh god, I’m — I’m rambling, I’m so sorry, I — I’m just gonna stop talking. Yeah. I’ll shut up. It’s nice to meet you.”

Surprisingly, it was Violet that spoke first. “I’m Violet.” She said. “Violet Hartley. Your cousin. I’m sixteen.”

“Cool.” Peter grinned, still standing in front of the Hartley’s awkwardly, despite the fact that his sister had thrown herself down on the couch next to Delilah, and his mom had started up a soft conversation with his _Aunt Ginger_ — yep, that still sounded insane. “Cool. Cool. That is _cool._ I’m — well, I already told you that I’m Peter. And im fourteen. Which you also already knew, cause you obviously know how old Morgan is, and I’m her twin brother, and I — holy _shit,_ I am _so_ sorry, I’m rambling again. I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous. I ramble when I’m nervous. I’ve never really — had proper cousins. Oh my god, I’m still rambling. I’m so sorry…. Anyone want a water?”

Peter felt his cheeks growing increasingly warm as he continues to ramble, and so just spun around and left the living room once everyone had said that _no,_ they _didn’t_ want water.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to hide himself from his embarrassment.

“Fuck.” He murmured. “I really messed that up. _Shit.”_

He poured himself a glass of water, and stayed standing behind the counter, trying to compose himself as Violet sat down on one of the stools on the other side of it. She smiled at him. “You freak pretty easily. I mean, makes sense — Morgan does too.”

“Hm.” Peter hummed affirmatively.

Violet snorted quietly. “It is absolutely _crazy_ that you and her are _twins._ Like, none of us had _any_ clue that Morgan wasn’t an only child —“

“— cause of the big family fight before we were born?”

“Yeah.” Violet laughed. “Yeah, that one. It’s crazy. And your dad is _Tony Stark?_ Like, I always knew that Mo didn’t really… look like anyone on my mom and Aunt Peppers side of the family, and thinking about it now, and seeing your whole deal, I can actually… I _can_ see a resemblance. It’s pretty weird.”

Peter laughed. “You didn’t have to… come out here, and try make me feel better or whatever. I’m fine.”

“Good to know.” Violet smiled. “I was actually coming to tell you to call me Vi not Violet, but… well, that works too, hey?”

“Sure.” He agreed.

She grinned. “Cool. I also wanted to warn you about my sister. Delilah. She’s — she’s only twelve, but she’s going through a _very_ intense goth phase, and has an unhealthy obsession with _‘feasting on the souls of her enemies’,”_ The older girl quoted. “So don’t take it personally if she threatens to kill you. She’s too much of a pussy to actually _do it.”_

Peter coughed into his water slightly, trying to suppress his laughter. “Gah _—_ sorry. I — I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Vi.”

Violet smiled at him. “Alrighty.Let’s go make everyone less afraid of your little — rambling freak out.”

“Yeah, prolly a good plan.” He laughed.“Les go -- oh, and it’s nice to actually uh, _meet_ you. Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” His cousin gestured for him to follow her back yo the living room; back to the rest of the _family._

**_APRIL 18, 2025, 12:39 PM — SUNANS THAI, CENTRAL MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“You’re insane, Pep.” Morgans aunt laughed as they walked up to Sunans Thai. “I mean — you guys _still_ do this?”

Her mom scoffed. “Of course we still do this, Gin. You remember your part, right?”

Aunt Ginger rolled her eyes. “Yep. Your full sister, Azzys half sister, we’re all,” she questioned to Carson, Vi and Delilah. “still normal. It’s basically just Az that we add. Our last name is Stacy, like Aunt Gwen.”

Morgan, Peter, and their cousins, were a bit away from the adults as they entered the restaurant; Azzy, Ginger and Carson, and her mom going in first.

They would sit at different tables — her mom and her aunt and uncle always let her, Violet and Delilah sit away from them when they went out like this, and today would be no exception. Despite the previous conversation, vis-à-vis their identities, and becoming known as themselves to the world and… all that, they were still under the false pretences -- but she was pretty sure that that detail was more for the sake of the Hartley’s and the fact that they weren’t used to the spotlight, than anything else. Maybe a bit for Sunan, to keep up the friendship that they had already made with him.

She was pretty sure the former was the bigger influence in the decision, though. Aunt Ginger had never really loved the fact that Morgans mom had (though somewhat unintentionally) become so famous and influential.

Maybe it was concern for their safety. Maybe it was jelousy. Maybe it was just a wish to not have to worry about the paparazzi.

But whatever it was, Morgan knew that her aunt had a strong dislike for the amount of fame and recognition that her mom had been receiving since becoming the CEO of the company — which, Morgan now knew, was her birthright in more than one way; half of the CEO job would _technically_ become hers, and she would get half ownership.

Her twin brother would receive the other half of both — so one day, they would control it together.

Morgan just _knew_ that when that day came, it would be an absolute shit show. Morgan and Peter being in control of a company as huge and successful and influential as Stark Industries. It would not end well.

She knew that her aunt had never really loved the fact that Morgan’s real life was hidden from the world. Because yes, even though Aunt Ginger and her mom had made up since the massive fight of the 00’s, they still butted heads in most things.

They were both super opinionated, and that wasn’t always a good thing. Actually, Morgan couldn’t remember _any_ occasion where it had been a good thing.

But, even if they were still putting on an act here, her mom and aunt seemed perfectly happy to be in each other’s presence as the group entered Sunans Thai.

As she had expected, the adults let her, her cousins and her brother have their own table. The four of them sat in a booth, not too close to their family, but close enough for her mom to not worry about… whatever it was that she was worried about — Morgan reckoned that now that her and her brother literally spent their nights going out in suits and stopping crime and shit, they’d worry less.

Apparently not.

It was cool — being with Peter, Violet and Delilah all at once. Knowing that all of them existed. Being with every person under the age of forty that she shared even a small amount of DNA with at once.

“So.” Delilah leant her elbows on the wooden table, resting her chin on her palms. “Why is this… what’s the _actual_ story here? Cause like, I didn’t wanna say this in front of your mom, but like… your parents separated _twins._ That’s pretty messed up. Are we — are we just not gonna question what’s going on with that?”

Morgans younger cousin had cut her hair since they last saw each other. It was below her shoulders now. Morgan didn’t know why that stood out to her so much, but it did.

She almost laughed. “I honestly — no clue, dude. They… they were having issues, I guess? And they just kinda… did it?”

“Dad kept almost killing himself, and mom didn’t — _couldn’t —_ be a part of him.” Her brother shrugged. “I mean, I get where she’s coming from, cause like — I’ve been watching himself almost kill himself my entire life, and — well, now I have _issues!”_ He did jazz hands. “I dunno. It was a pretty shitty idea, no matter why they did it.”

“That’s an understatement.” Violet muttered under her breath. She continued when Peter raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I mean, none of us had literally _any_ idea that Peter existed, and he’s actual family. We don’t have many people, and like… y’know?”

“Yeah.” Peter shrugged. “Yeah. I wish that this — didn’t. That this just didn’t happen. Like… for fucks sake guys. Bad. Decision. Making. Skills.”

“Mm.” Morgan agreed. _“But,_ we do get to start existing as ourselves to the world.”

“Seriously?” Violet exclaimed immediately. “You’re — you don’t have to have a fake identity anymore? You — you don’t have to be Morgan Stacy anymore?”

“Nope!” She said happily. “I get to be Morgan Potts, he gets to be Peter Stark, we’re allowed to tell people that we’re twins… it’ll be great. It’ll be so, _so_ great.”

“Cant fucking wait!” Peter exclaimed, holding both of his thumbs up, and smiling… _maybe_ looking like a bit of a psycho, but… well, that wasn’t relevant. He could look insane if he really wanted to. “It’s — lahjejvsiay, it’ll be _so good. So_ good. I — yes. It’s good.”

“Ooh, and!” Morgan started. “I have… some very top secret, very juicy tea.”

“Yeah?” Delilah asked.

“Yeah.” Se nodded decisively. “Yeah. We’re like… ninety six percent certain that mom and dad still love each other. And that they still want to be together. And that — that they _might_ get back together.”

“Doubt it.” Violet shook her head. “No. I call bullshit. There is _no_ way. Why the hell would they wanna get back together?”

“Gimme a sec.” Morgan said quickly, picking up her phone and looking up a certain BuzzFeed article on her phone.

_Celebity_ _·Posted 5 days ago_

**_Stark Industries Owner, Tony Stark, And CEO, Pepper Potts, Have Seemingly ‘Made Up’ After Over A Decade Of Unexplained Arguing._ **

_They’re friends again. That’s it._

**_—————_ **

_Obviously we all know about… the mystery_ thing _that made the heads of Stark Industries stop talking to each other, way back in 2013. They weren’t seen in meetings together again until a few moths ago, and a few days ago, paparazzi got_ these _photos of them eating early lunch together in Manhattan._

**[IMAGE: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts eating food in a cafe, 2025.]**

_Nobody really knows what actually_ happened _to make them stop taking, and I know that a lot of people_ were _waiting to find out that they were dating back then (it sucked that instead of that we just got news that they suddenly seemed to hate one another). But these recent picture are giving off real 2012 Pepperoni (Pepper Potts has confirmed that they had been together during 2012) vibes._

**[IMAGE: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts walking through Central Park, 2012.]**

_So… well, I’m not saying that I hope their new not-hatred for each other is actually because they’re back together… but…_

**[IMAGE: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, walking towards the main Stark Industries facility in NYC, both holding coffee cups and laughing, 2025.]**

_I mean, they look happy together. And they would be such an_ iconic _power couple. I mean — Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. Together. Dating. Again. It would be_ so _powerful. Seriously. Look at the power that they hold. It’s immaculate._

**[IMAGE: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts sitting in a cafe, both wearing sunglasses and staring directly at the camera with black expressions. ]**

“Here.” Morgan said, passing the phone to her cousin after making sure that it was the right article. “Read that. I found that one last night.”

“Is that the, uh — the one with the photos of them at lunch?” Peter asked. “Cause… ouch. I can’t believe they went for fancy lunch without us. I am so, _so_ hurt. So deeply, _deeply_ pained, by this knowledge. I thought that they were meant to _love us.”_

“So did I.” Morgan whispered exaggeratedly. “They were meant to love us. But they have done the unforgivable. The unfathomable. They dareth get food without us.”

“So you can forgive them for separating you for most of your lives, but not for… getting _food_ without you?” Violet asked sceptically, reading the article on Morgans phone over Delilahs shoulder. “Really?”

“I mean…” They said, at the same time — doing the stupidly trippy thing that they kept _accidentally_ doing, which Morgan could not for the life of her figure out, because there was absolutely no reason for them to just… _automatically_ speak synchronised. There wasn’t any reasonable explanation for why they, _fraternal_ twins, did that, while most normal, non-twin siblings, couldn’t just do that accidentally. It… it fucked up her perception of life. Still, they unintentionally continued to speak at the same time. “Yeah.”

“I… the whole separated twin thing is old news to us, now.” Peter shrugged. “Like, I know that it’s only been like, a month, but… well — it’s normal now. It’s normal.”

“Yeah.” Morgan nodded in agreement. “It’s seemed normal since the like, third day.”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed. “It’s very, _very_ normal. This whole situation is — is _so_ normal. And I definitely haven’t gotten so stupidly used to it that sometimes I have little moment where I’m like, _‘fuck, this has only been going on for like, a month. This_ isn’t _actually that normal.”_

“Nope. Never.”

“Not at all.”

“Yeah that’s _never_ occurred to me.”

“Uh huh. This is all totally normal and makes _complete_ sense.”

“Definitely.”

“Yep.”

“Yep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gougaocb xuqhnxod im sorryyyy i said id have this up on friday but its sunday and i rlly rlly apologise BUT imma go back to my normal every sunday night update schedule okay thats all i wanted to say byeeee :)


	15. PART FOURTEEN

**_APRIL 19, 2025, 1:47 AM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

_“She wasn’t in ‘Nam. Okay? She got lost. For fifteen minutes. That’s… “ The father spoke._

_“That can be very scary.” The doctor cut him off._

_“No, you don’t know what happened to her. Anything could have happened to her.” The mother agreed with the doctor._

_“Okay, okay. So how — how… how do we get her to talk?”_

_“Encourage her to draw, to write, to dance. Anything to help her tell us her story.”_

_“I just want my little girl back.”_

_It cut from the scene in the therapists office to the scene of the girl — the girl, who was technically a tether — and her parents, in their car; the parents arguing as the girl watched silently._

_“Okay, she left. She —“_

_“I_ told _you to look after her.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah.”_

_“Look at you.”_

_“It’s not my fault that she left.”_

_“Look at you.”_

_“It’s not my fault that he… yeah, well, look at me.”_

_“Look at you. Look at you!”_

“Holy _shit.”_ Morgan whispered, the room automatically becoming lighter as the end of the movie caused them to come back on. “Holy fucking _shit,_ I was _not_ expecting — Adelaide wasn’t actually herself. That is — that — that killed me. She — holy _fuck,_ that actually makes so much sense!”

“Oh my god.” Peter whispered, looking at her with wide eyes. “You’re right. You’re right! Because — because _her_ counterpart — her _tether_ or whatever — could _talk!_ None of the others could talk, but she _could,_ because she’d been a normal human being _above_ the tunnels until she was like, eight or something! And so — so she sounds all weird when she talks, cause she hadn’t spoken in like, thirty years! Holy _shit!”_

“And the — and the fact that she was strangled.” Morgan nodded along. “Like, when she woke up, underground? And she was like, rubbing her neck? Cause the doppelgänger choked her? That might have something to do with her voice, too.”

 _“God.”_ Violet stretched her arms out in front of her. “That — that broke me. That _ending —_ because — because really, _Adelaide_ was the one to blame for all that, cause she stole the other one’s life, but then… but then _original_ Adelaide _was_ that one that did all the murder and shit, and — and oh my _god!”_

“Woahhhhh.” Morgan leaned back on the couch, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my Jesus fuck, I am absolutely fucking _shooketh._ I am — my mind is _blown._ I am _so shook.”_

“Do you reckon Jason was a tether?” Peter asked. Morgan sat back up, and looked at her brother with her head to the side slightly. He continued, running a hand through his har — and _maybe_ looking a tad bit insane — as he did so. “I mean… just — just the way he looked at her at the end? Like I feel like he _knows_ something. He’s — he’s a bit sus.”

“No.” Violet shook her head. “No way. He _can’t have been.”_ She turned to them sort of suddenly. “He wouldn’t have been able to make his tether dude — I forgot his name —“

“— Pluto. His name — his name was Pluto —“

“ _Right!_ Pluto. Thanks, Morgan. He wouldn’t have been able to make Pluto go in the fire — if he was a tether. Because the tethers didn’t control the people; it was the other way round.”

“Good point.” Peter shrugged. “I dunno. He just seemed… _off,_ in that last bit.”

“I mean, he heard his mom murder someone.” Morgan tilted her head again. “That’d probably… I dunno. Affect him. Somehow.”

Her brother rolled his eyes at her. “Morgan.” He sighed dramatically. “Mom and dad have _both_ killed people — and we don’t act like that.”

“Mom and dad aren’t secretly their counterparts, who stole the life and identity of the original them when they were a child, killing the alternate version of themselves that they forced to live a life of horror and eating raw rabbits and all that shit.”

“She has a point.” Violet shrugged. “Plus — well, he might have heard something about how his mom was _technically_ a tether. Finding that out is sure to mess up his perception of her.”

“Mm, that’s true.”

“Okay.” Morgan crossed her legs, and put a pillow on top of them, then grabbed one of the bowls of snacks that they had sitting on the coffee table, and the TV controller. “What do you guys wanna watch now? Another horror?”

“Sure.” Her cousin leant back into her original position, so that she was looking at the large screen, rather than Morgan and Peter. “Maybe like… The Conjuring? Or like, The Shining?”

“Not The Shining.” Peter stole some crisps from her bowl. “I mean… like, it’s a good movie, but it’s not that scary. And it takes _so long_ to get started. And I would _much_ rather it was about how the dude with the two daughters spent his time at the hotel, y’know? Like, come _on.”_

“I _do_ agree with that.” Morgan started to search a movie. “So we all cool with The Conjuring?”

“Yeah.” Violet nodded. “Peter? Conjuring?”

“Yep!” Peter slouched further into the couch, grabbing himself the popcorn bowl. “Conjuring.”

Morgan pressed play on the movie, and the lights in the living room dimmed again automatically, submerging the whole room, except for the movie, in darkness.

“Do you guys reckon that Delilah will be mad when she finds out she watched movies without her all night?” Morgans brother asked softly.

“No.” Violet scoffed, stealing a handful of crisps. “She _hates_ horror movies. And she still has a nine o’clock bedtime, so mom and dad wouldn’t let her stay up and watch these with us, anyway. And she gets _so_ cranky when she doest get her beauty sleep.”

“She’s not all the badass cold-hearted emo that she dresses like.” Morgan laughed quietly. “Honestly, I think it’s mom and Aunt Ginger and Uncle Carter that will be mad at us tomorrow — for watching movies and being _loud_ all night.”

“I think we’re being pretty quiet…” Peter started, before cursing himself off. “Who am I kidding? I honestly — we _aren’t_ being quiet. At all. In any way whatsoever.”

“Yeah.” Violet laughed loudly. “Y’all are _so_ loud.”

“You’re loud too.” Morgan argued with her cousin. “And — and I would _appreciate_ our loudness while you still can. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Good point.” The red head shrugged. “Alrighty, lets watch this psychotic family with five children get possessed by the child murdering witch ghost.”

“That was… that was a _terrible_ way to explain the plot.” Morgan scrunched her nose.

“Two hundred year old war vets beat up an orphan with heart problems, after one of them murders his parents.”

 _“What?”_ Violet asked, her voice becoming unreasonably high. “What are you _on about?”_

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Peter, it is not okay to make jokes about your fathers trauma, and the fact that he was almost killed by Captain America.”

“But it’s a coping mechanismmm _mmm!”_ He complained.

“I — dude, _what?”_ Violet exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it.” Morgan and her brother said immediately. “It onset matter.”

Violet didn’t look convinced.

**_APRIL 19, 2025, 7:23 AM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“You… Pepper you — what was the _point_ — of _all_ of this — if you’re —“

“I _know,_ Ginger. I —“ Peter heard his mom sigh loudly. “— I _know._ I _know._ I shouldn’t have — I just don’t know what to do now. I _never_ don’t know what to do. I _always_ know what to — what am I meant to _do?”_

“Pepper, I — I honestly couldn’t tell you. _You_ have always been the organised one. _And_ you’re the old and wise one. I’m sorry, I really am, but… I think you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own.”

His mom let out a short, almost distressed, sound. “I know.”

“When are you going to see him next? When do the kids go back?” Aunt Ginger asked.

Peter tuned on his bed slightly, so that he could hear his mom and Aunt Ginger’s conversation better.

“They’re staying here until Monday, instead of Sunday — he — he said he just needed one more day. Just in case something happens again.”

“That’s understandable.” Ginger answered. “So you’re taking them there after school?”

“No — Happy’s just going to take them back to his, instead of back here. I — _I_ won’t see him until later on. Not until Wednesday night.”

“And she —“

“— Katie will most likely be there, yes.”

Aunt Ginger gave a soft sigh. “That’s rough, sis. I’m sorry.”

“No.” His moms voice turned sombre. “It’s my fault anyway.”

“Hey, dude.” Morgan came into his room quietly, sitting in the corner across from his bed. Peter rolled over, so that he could see his sister.

“Hey, Mo.” He nodded his head at her slightly. “What’s up?”

“You got any clue what mom and Aunt Ginger are talking about? Cause they’ve been on about it for like, thirty minutes.”

“Mom is still in love dad.” Peter said simply.

Morgan clearly did a double take, then proceeded to stare at him, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. “Wh — wait —“ She stuttered. “— wait, are you — actual? You’re — you’re being… _serious?_ Our mom —“

“— still loves our dad, yeah.” Peter gave her a decisive nod. “Crazy shit, I know. Mom and Aunt Ginger have been talking about it since…” He glanced at the clock on his wall. “Six fifty one. And it’s twenty five minutes past seven now, so — thirty four minutes.”

“Hmm.” Morgan tilted her head slightly, and Peter could tell that she was trying not to freak out about what he just told her. “So… I mean, that’s — that’s a _good thing,_ isn’t it? Isn’t it _good_ that mom is still in love with dad? That — that helps us, right? It’ll make it easier to get dad to fall back in love with her, and that’ll help Marie happen, and — that’s good. This is — this is good. This is — this is _really_ good.”

Peter laughed softly, and grinned at her rambling. “Yeah it is! Mom is still _in love_ with dad! And that — it’s hard to still love someone when it’s not reciprocated, so dad must still love her, _too,_ to some extent. Which means he’ll be more — around her, and so Katie will be around Maria more, and Marie will happen, and — yeah. This is really, _really_ good. It’s _great!”_

“Awesome!” Morgan returned his smile. “What about now? They still talking about how mom still loves dad?”

 _“— Oh my god, mom and dad were_ so _mad at us for throwing that party. Seriously, I thought we were going to die.”_ His mom spoke to her sister quietly.

Peter listened, then shuddered when he figured out what his mom and aunt were talking about. “No.” He shook his head. “No. Now, they’re talking about — something about when they were kids? Teenager? Something about — our grandma and grandad went away and they —“

“— they threw a huge party and ended up setting the pool on fire, and the cops had to detain Aunt Ginger, and Aunt Gwen had to get them from police custody and then mom ran back off to college to escape their parents wrath?” His sister asked, and Peter nodded. “Yeah. An _iconic_ tale. They talk about it every time we see each other — I’m like, one hundred percent certain that Ginger is still salty about it.”

 _“— You shouldn’t have left me — I mean, I was_ sixteen! _I was sixteen, and you just left me there for mom and dad to kill!”_ Ginger exclaimed.

 _“Well, they_ did _kill me when I came home for the summer. And I shouldn’t have been away from college that weekend anyway, so…”_ Their mom tried to reason.

 _“You still left me.”_ Aunt Ginger cut their mom off, sounding somehow cold and sarcastic at the same time. _“Alone. With mom and dad. To get killed, like —”_

Peter laughed at the adults conversation. “Yeah, she sounds like she’s still annoyed about it.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Give them like, five minutes, and they’ll stop talking about _that._ Hopefully. Or maybe Carson’ll wake up, and make them stop arguing. He hates conflict.”

 _“Or,”_ Peter suggested. “We could go make coffee, and then they’d have to pay attention to us instead of arguing about shit that happened like, fifty million years ago.”

“Mm, good plan.” Morgan agreed, pulling herself up from the corner. “Wanna get some caffeine?”

“Yes.” Peter also stood up, and he and Morgan started toward the kitchen. “Yes. I want caffeine. Let us go get caffeine.”

“Yep!” They made their way to the kitchen, both of them muttering quiet _‘morning’_ s to their mother and their aunt, before starting up the coffee machine.

The coffees were made within a couple minutes, and Peter moved on autopilot to sit on the end of the dining room table, sitting cross legged on his chair, and drank it quickly.

His aunt stared at him with raised eyebrows, her gaze flickering between him, his mom, and Morgan (who was also drinking her coffee way too fast for it to be healthy), then buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Dear god.” She muttered, staring at Peters mom. “Pepper, there’s two of them. He — drink coffee just like she does. There is _two of them!”_

“I mean…” Morgan said slowly. “That’s — kind of the point. Because, we’re, you know — twins. We have basically the same DNA, and all that.”

“Pepper.” Ginger whispered. “Pepper, there’s two of them, and you are _doomed.”_

His mom rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks for informing me, sis. I didn’t know that already, at all. Nope. Had no clue.”

“Don’t be sarcastic.” Ginger rolled her eyes. “You’re just gonna make _them_ more sarcastic, and then you’ll be even _more_ doomed.”

“I think that Tony’s already been successful in making them little shits — no offence, guys, but those genes _definitely_ come from your fathers side of the family.” Their mom muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re cursed, oh well.” Peter slumped down onto the table, since he had finished his coffee. Then, he sat up suddenly, and went back over to the coffee machine. “I need more caffeine.”

“Can you make me another too?” His sister asked him from the dining room. “I need more too.”

“Yep!” He made her another, too.

“Oh dear _god.”_ Ginger exclaimed. “Pepper, your children are addicted to caffeine. Why? How? I didn’t even know that you _drank_ coffee.”

“I _don’t.”_ Their mother groaned. “That’s Anthonys fault. _All_ on him.” She lowered her voice. “I’d rather it be caffeine than alcohol, Gin. I’ll take this over that.”

“Yeah, we got a shit hand!” Peter yelled at them from the kitchen.

“Yep!” Morgan agreed. “Thanks, guys!”

Their mother just groaned.

“Hey,” Aunt Ginger said comfortingly. “He gets him back tomorrow. You get a break!”

 _“Ginger!”_ Peter’s mom hissed. “Don’t _say that!”_

Eh, it was fine. Because if they went to their dads, Peter was _certain_ that they would find a way to make sure that their father still reciprocated their mothers feelings.

And, they could sow more seeds for Marie, which was _definitely_ a positive — because honestly, Peter genuinely wanted Maria and Katie together now, rather than it just being a way to get Katie away from his dad.

They would be nice together.

**_APRIL 20, 2025, 4:27 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“Thank you!” Morgan exclaimed as she jumped out of her uncles car. “See you soon, Hap!”

“Stay safe, kid.” He said, before giving her brother a nod as well. “You too, kid. Both of you. Stay safe.”

“Will do, Hap.” Peter grinned. “Bye!”

“Wait!” Morgan said, pausing before she slammed her door shut. 

There were too many coincidences — on Happy’s role in the entire ordeal that they were tied up in. He had been the one that suggested that her mom moved the main office of Stark Industries to New York, because that was where the main R&D buildings were, even though he knew that her mom wanted anything but to New York, closer to Tony Stark than she had been since they broke up. He was the one that recommended that she go to Midtown Tech, after ‘research’ on New York schools — which Morgan was like, ninety percent sure was just him trying to make her and Peter run into each other.

Happy looked at her from the drivers seat, prompting her to continue. She swallowed. “Did you plan this? Did you — did you set this up?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, giving the illusion of confusion. Morgan knew better than to believe that, though. Happy Hogan was a _terrible_ liar — she knew that better than anyone. “I have _no_ clue what you’re talking about.”

She rolled her eyes. “So you did? You planned this? This was all your little idea to… what? Fix stuff?” Realisation dawned on her. “You _knew!_ Did — did mom _tell you_ that she was still in love with dad, or did you figure it out yourself? Or… did Azzy find out and then tell you? How do you _know?”_

“Pepper still loved Tony?”

She sighed, and rubbed her forehead exasperatedly. “Happy. Uncle Hap. Come on. You _know_ that I know when your lying. _Please_ just tell me if you tried to push us all back together.”

“Wait,” Peter said, suddenly appearing back by your side. “You’re on to something — he _did_ try set this up!” Her brother turned to stare at her, a slightly crazed look on his face. “Holy _shit,_ it all makes sense now! _He_ was the one that convinced me to take you around school that first day!”

“What?”

“Yeah!” He nodded dramatically. “Yeah, I was complaining to him a bunch about how Mister Harrington wanted me to show around some new kid, and I was gonna say no, and he was like ‘no, kid, you should consider doing it! There _has_ to be a reason that he chose _you,_ so you may as well!’” He imitated Happys voice terribly. “And I wouldn’t have agreed to show you around if he hadn’t said that —”

“— and if we hadn’t met that first day, you wouldn’t have figured out that mom was my mom, and if we hadn’t seen Flash when we were going around, and he hadn’t said that we look the same, I wouldn’t have looked at the photos and been like ‘hmm, we look terribly like the same small child — oh, holy fuck, we’re actually twins!” Morgan leant so that she was halfway into the car again. “Harold Hogan, you sly son of a bitch, you _planned_ this! Thank you so much!”

“I — wait, what?” This time, Morgan knew that Happy was genuinely confused. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because!” She exclaimed, grinning at him. “Just — yeah. Thanks. So much!”

“Okay, uh…” Happy looked between Morgan and her brother awkwardly. “See you guys. Soon.”

“Yep!!” Her and her brother exclaimed — again, at the same time. They kept doing that, and it was fucking with her head. “Bye, Hap!”

He stayed there as they went up to the front door, and Peter unlocked it with his key. Happy waved one last time, once he was sure that they would get inside okay, and then drove off.

“Hey, dad!” Morgan called, as they walked in. “We’re home!”

“How was work?” Peter yelled after her, throwing his bag down next to the stairs as they he moved through the house presumably toward their father, because he could (probably) hear his heat beat and hearing and all that stuff. Morgan also put her bag down, before following him.

“Fuck,” Morgan whispered. “I forgot that dad had a job!”

Peter snorted. “Good job, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like anyone really knows what his actual job _is_ anymore?”

“Head of R&D, owner of a huge ass company, Iron Man? All that?”

“Oh.” Morgan paused. :Yeah. That. I forgot about that.”

“Once again, good job.”

He pushed open the door to a room that Morgan… hadn’t realised existed, before. He walked in, though, so she followed him.

The room was an office — and a pretty big one, at that. It was kind of like the workshop/lab/suit building place, except there were _normal_ laptops, instead of weird hologram ones _,_ and a bunch of… normal officey things. As though her father was a normal, functioning human that owned a huge company.

Which, of course, wasn’t true. But the office room definitely gave the illusion of it.

Morgan had a feeling that was _exactly_ why the office existed. For show.

And, sitting on the spin chair, wearing his glasses (hehe, it was weird to see her dad wearing normal _reading_ glasses, rather than his usual sunglasses). He spun around as they came in, and grinned. “Hey! Pete! Maguna!” He stood up, and pulled them both into a hug. “How are you guys? How was seeing your moms sister and her family?”

“Seeing Aunt Ginger?” Morgan laughed when he released them, and started leading them out of the room. “Actual _terrifying.”_ He looked at her for a moment, one eyebrow quirked in confusion, and she laughed. “Peter freaked out when we got home from school and he heard them all at moms place, cause he couldn’t recognise their heartbeats or whatever, and started acting like we were gonna get murdered.

“Heh,” Peter laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Sorry about that, Mo. I mean… I _didn’t_ recognise their heartbeats, so…”

“The fact that you can _recognise heartbeats_ is the weird bit, dude, not the fact that there were unfamiliar people in out house!”

Her brother rolled his eyes, “I didn’t _ask_ to get bitten by a steroid spider!”

“But you _did_ go on a field trip without dads _real_ signature, so you —“

“Children.” Their dad said placatingly. “Let’s not argue about Peters freaky powers right now. Sandwiches?”

“Sure.” Peter grinned. “Thanks, dad.”

“Yeah, I’ll have one too.” Morgan smiled. She pointed back in the direction of the stairs quickly. :I’m — just gonna go and put my stuff away. Pete, you want me to chuck your bag in your room for you?”

“Yes pleaseeeee!” Her brother smiled widely, “Thank youuu!”

“Yeah, all good!” She said over her shoulder as she started to move way from him. “I’m not putting your shit away for you, though.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

“I heard that!” Peter yelled from the kitchen as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Morgan slung both bags over her shoulder, and made her way up the stairs. She threw her brothers bag into his room as she passed it, closing the door behind her when the bag landed softly on his bed. Then, she continued on to her own bedroom.

“Home sweet home.” She muttered to herself as she placed her bag down on her own bed, and opened it. She started putting her clothes away. She plugged her phone and her laptop both in, and lay down on her bed for a moment.

“Sandwiches are ready, Little Miss!” Her dad yelled from downstairs after a couple of minutes, and Morgans eyes flew open.

She remembered him calling her that. A long, long time ago. When she was like, not even a fully grown toddler. Morgan breathed out heavily for a moment, covering her face with her hands for a moment, before she got up, and went down to the kitchen again. “Hey. Thanks for the sandwiches, dad!”

“Eh, it’s no problem, kiddo.” Her dad grinned, taking a drink of his black coffee — which, ew. How could they _stomach_ that? Her brother and her father were _weirdos._ Such fucking _weirdos._ “Least I could do. _So!_ Seeing Peps family was good?”

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed. “Yeah! We have like, actual, legit cousins! And the older one — Violet, she’s two years older than us — she’s super cool. And we watched heaps of horror movies with her. And the other one — Delilah, she’s two years _younger_ than us, she’s like, super emo. Honestly, she was kind of scary. Like, scary little emo twelve year old with black dyed hair.”

“Huh. Sounds like fifteen year old Maybelle.” Their dad laughed. “So it was good?”

“Yeah!” They said at the same time time.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.” Morgan nodded, holding her sandwich away from her for a second. “Yeah, it was great. I haven’t seen any of them for _ages._ It was good.”

“That's good.” Their dad smiled softly at them, before his expression became slightly more serious. _“Anyway,_ I’ve been working on stuff for the press conference. Your mom agreed on Saturday, so… so the _date_ is set. Either at twelve thirty or two, haven’t decided yet.”

“Cool!” Peter exclaimed, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah,” Their dad nodded. “So… we just have to finalise the time, and get speeches done. And your mom will be here on Wednesday to help us with all that, because… well, we all know that she’s the organised and responsible one.”

“Understatement.” Peter muttered.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Their dad laughed. “Yeah, so she’ll help us with speeches, and we’ll probably get our _super fun_ vigilante conversation over and done with then, too.”

“So we can —“

“No, Morg.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean that you can go out patrolling after that. You’re still grounded until next Wednesday. And then you should probably wait a couple more days after that — just for the sanity of your mother and I. Don’t — well, we don’t really want any stress induced heart attacks anytime soon, so — we’ll wait on the patrolling until we’ve fixed up your suits and they’re connected to FRIDAY, and I’ve _reinforced —“_ He shot Morgans brother a pointed look. “— the trackers and safety protocols. Capisce?”

“Capisce.” She and Peter murmured together.

“Awesome.” Their dad stood up straighter, finishing the rest of his cup of coffee. “Well, how about you guys finish up those sandwiches, get all your homework over and done with, and then you can come down to the lab to help with the suit updates and all that? And we can watch a movie or something later, if you want to.”

“Cool!” Morgan exclaimed. “Like… forty five minutes?”

“Yep.” Her father smiled. “I’ll be down there, so… yeah, just come down when you’re both ready.”

“Yeah.” Peter paused from his sandwich — which he’d somehow almost finished already — to smile at their dad. “Thanks dad.”

“All good, kiddos. I’ll be down there.” He turned from the room.

Morgan poked her brother, grinning at him. “Peter,” She whispered. “Peter, we get to exist on Saturday!”

**_APRIL 22, 2025, 5:02 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

There was a knock on the door, and Morgan jumped to answer it. As soon as she opened it, she saw her mom, and engulfed her in a hug. “Hey, mom!” She exclaimed. “Welcome! Come in! Dad and Pete are in the dining room — they’re starting to try think of speech ideas and… it’s —“

“Awful? Terrifying? Atrocious?” Her mom asked as she walked inside. Morgan nodded, and the older woman laughed. “Yeah, that’s expected. I’m here now, though, you’re saved.”

“Thanks, mom.” Morgan groaned. “I don’t think I would have survived another minute of that. It was _very_ scary.”

Her mom let out a short puff of laughter, and wrapped an arm around Morgans shoulders. “Yep. Let’s go… make a coherent speech.”

“Cool.” Morgan grinned.

They both sat down at the dining room table, opposite Morgans dad and her brother.

“Hey, Tony.” Her mom said, somewhat hesitantly. Morgan and Peter exchanged a look.

Their dad offered a small smile in return. “Good to see you, Pep. Especially since I’m — you know — not recovering from alcohol poisoning. This time.”

Their mom laughed airily, and their dad grinned.

Oh, those idiots were so stupidly in love. And so _denying_ that they were still stupidly in love. Her and Peter needed to figure out a way to push them closer today — that much she was _completely_ sure of. These couple of hours could mean _so much._

“Peter!” Morgan said quickly. “I need to talk to you! About a thing! Upstairs! Like — now. Right now. Let’s go.” She stood up quickly, and dragged her brother along with her. “It’s _important.”_ She hissed when he resisted her pull slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He let her pull him along until they were on the upstairs landing. When they got there, he turned to her with a frown on his face. “Okay. What’s going on? What do you need to talk about?”

 _“Dude!”_ She exclaimed, pointing downstairs. _“Look_ at them! Can’t you _see,_ bro? They are so _clearly_ trying to deny to themselves that they still love each other, and want to be together, and — and this is _great!”_

“Wait…” realisation dawned on her brothers face. “Wait, this is _awesome!_ We — we need to make _them_ see it! Holy _shit!”_

 _“Yeah,”_ Morgan nodded, deadpan. “Yeah. That’s the point. Katie hasn’t been her at _all_ since we came back, and according to _MJ —“_

“— it’s still _insane_ that she lets you call you _‘MJ’ —_ “

“— yeah, she _definitely_ has a _huge_ crush on you. And she’s surprisingly not very good at being subtle about it —“

_“— what? —“_

“Yeah, anyway —“

“Hold on,” Peter cut her off, shaking her head. “Lets, uh — turn back, a little. Rewind — no, no, no, no, I am not going to — I remember that night I just might regret that night for the rest of my days. I remember those soldier boys tripping over themselves to win our praise —“

“— I remember that dreamlike candlelight like a dream that you can’t quite lace. But Alexander I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face. I have never been the same; intelligent eyes with a hunger panged frame. And when you said hi, I forgot my dang name, set my heart aflame, every part of me, this is not a game —“

“-- okay, we need to stop now. This -- I was trying not to fall into the Hamilton trap again and… we did. We fell into the trap of Hamilton — _fuck!”_

His sister laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Sorry. That was partially on me. Oops.”

“Eh,” Peter waved her off half heartedly. “Anyway, uh — um — Michelle Jones like… has a crush — on me? Michelle? Are you — really?”

“Yeah, really, but that isn’t the point of this, dude!” Morgan shook her head. “My point is that MJ said that _Maria_ has been gossiping to her mom about how much time she’s been spending with _Katie_ over the last week or so, so — so that’s good.”

“That means that Marie is starting to happen.” Peter agreed, nodding. “And _that_ means that Katie and dad will start to like, fall apart. Become distant from one another, or whatever, and _that_ means that dad can be _completely_ honest about his feelings, and — and _that_ means that he and mom are another step close to getting back together, and that is _perfect!”_

“Yeah.” Morgan nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was trying to _tell you,_ bro. This is _amazing!_ This is so, _so_ great!”

“Okay,” He laughed excitedly. “Yep. Yep, cool, uh — well, mom and dad are making unnecessarily, um… embarrassing stories about us as babies sort of small talk, and I want it to stop, so — let’s go back down there. Before dad pulls out the photo files or they get suspicious of us, or — something.”

“Right.” Morgan grinned. “Okay. Lets go trick our parents into admitting that they still love each other again.”

“Mmhmm.” Peter hummed, before snapping his fingers and turning to smile at her, walking backwards through the hall that led to the dining room. “We’re like… making a _Parent Trap._ For them. We’re Trapping our Parents together. Trapping them… back in love, because —“

“That was a _terrible_ analogy, Peter.” She rolled her eyes as they sat back down with their parents. “Worst analogy that I have heard, _ever._ In my _entire_ life. That was — so many kinds of awful.”

“What was so many kinds of awful?” Their dad asked when they sat back down.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You didn’t teach me to make good analogies. Why have you forsaken me in this way, father? What have you forsaken me!?”

“Uh…”

“Ignore him.” Morgan said quickly. “Don’t worry. He’s just a bug dumb dumb. No biggie.”

“Uh…”

“È molto cattivo nel fare metafore e io lo stavo prendendo in giro per lui, quindi…” She shrugged. “Sì. Non c'è niente di cui preoccuparsi.”

_[(He is just very bad at making metaphors and I was making fun of him for him, so... yeah. Nothing to worry about.)]_

“Va bene.” Her father nodded. “ok. Bello. Sì, va bene così. Facciamo... scrivere alcuni discorsi! Fantastico!”

_[(Alright. Okay. Cool. Yeah, that's alright. Let's uh... write some speeches! Awesome!)]_

“Alright.” Morgans mom clasped her hands over the table. “So, obviously we need to… tell the world about all of this, and how the kids are _both_ of our kids, so,” She cleared her throat. “I wrote these up last night — Tony, read through it, check if it’s okay, and uh… we can fix up any problematic bits.”

“Cool. Thanks, Pep.” Her dad smiled.

“Uh, just — quickly,” Peter cut in. “Like… Obviously Morgan and I don’t really _need_ to be here… for this, so, uh… I have _one_ thing to say, before we go… do something… _else.”_

“Alright, shoot.” Their dad nodded.

“Right. I was just wondering if we — if they’re gonna know about the whole… _separation_ thing. Like… I dunno, I’d rather the world… not know about that. It just kinda makes me — a bit uncomfy.”

“Actually, yeah.” Morgan agreed with her brother. “I’d rather them not know about that, too. It’s just a bit… _too_ personal.”

“That is absolutely _fine.”_ Their mom nodded. “We don’t have to say anything that you guys don’t want us to say. Alright?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Yeah, I mean — that’s the only thing I didn’t really feel… good with. Other than that, talking about anything is fine. Morgan? Anything else that you… don’t like?”

“Uh…” She shook her head. “No. Just that is fine. Yeah. I’m completely fine with basically anything but that. Just like, call us back to read through it when you’re finished.”

“Cool.” Her dad smiled.

“Awesome!” Morgan grinned. “Peter, let’s go — so homework. Or something. I’m gonna do some painting. Let’s go.”

“Uh…” Peter awkwardly nodded along, standing up as she did so. “Yeah. Lets — lets go do homework or painting or something. Bye, mom. Bye, dad. Have fun doing this boring stuff.”

They both escaped the room as fast as they could, and ran back upstairs.

“Okay.” Peter said quickly as they stopped in the hallway between their rooms. “Okay, cool. I’m — going to go make something. I’ll come across and tell you if anything interesting comes up in their conversation.”

Morgan grinned. “Cool. Well, I’ll just be in there painting something — uh, super quick, what should I paint?”

“Er…” Peter paused. “Paint a… paint a cat. Кошка. Un gatto.”

 _[(A cat_ [Russian]. _A cat_ [Italian]. _)]_

“Cool.” Morgan laughed. “Maybe — _maybe,_ when mom and dad let us go patrolling again — _maybe_ we can find a stray cat somewhere, and rescue it, and convince mom and dad to let us keep it.”

“Yes.” Peter nodded. “Yes. We should rescue a stray cat. And force our parents to let us keep it — and, because they will _obviously_ still be in the honeymoon phase of their rediscovered love, they’ll ket us keep it. The cat.Кошка. Il gatto.”

 _[(A cat_ [Russian]. _The cat_ [Italian]. _)]_

“Yes.” Morgan agreed with her brother. “Yes, you _clearly_ need to accentuate your point by repeating all the words you say in two _extra_ languages. It is very helpful. Это очень полезно. È molto utile.”

 _[(It is very helpful_ [Russian]. _It is very helpful_ [Italian]. _)]_

“Shut up.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Заткнись. Zitto.” Morgan echoed.

 _[(Shut up_ [Russian]. _Shut up_ [Italian]. _)]_

“Okay, you’re a _bully._ You’re making fun of me.”

“Oh, am I really?”

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Bye!” Peter went into his room and closed the door behind him.

“Ouch.” Morgan laughed. “Felling the love, bro.”

“Oh, you should be!” He yelled through the door.

She rolled her eyes at her brothers antics. “Okay, I’m gonna go ignore you now!”

“You do that!” Peter shouted.

“Oh, I will!”

“Good!”

“Great!” Morgan couldn’t help but laugh when her brother fell silent, undoubtedly getting caught up in some project — could ask FRIDAY what it was that he was working on, because it was surely very interesting…. but she would find out later. Her nerdy loser weirdo of a brother would tell her all about it later on. Once their parents had finished their planning, and they were all sitting on the couch watching the good place and eating Chinese takeaway — because that was surprisingly her fathers obsession of the week.

**_APRIL 24, 2025, 12:34 PM — MIDTOWN SCHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Peter placed his lunch tray down in his usual spot next to Ned, his twin sister following close behind him, and Sitting opposite Ned.

It was kind of weird — how since Morgan came around, he seemed to have more friends. Or at least, more friends that actually hung out with him. Obviously he had basically always been friends with Ned and Cindy, but… Morgan and Michelle sat with him and Ned everyday at lunch. That was two _whole_ people. That was… a lot of people, for someone like him, who had a relatively lonely childhood and only really had two friends.

Well… he wasn’t really sure if he and Michelle were _friends,_ as such. He — well, she hadn’t told him he could call her _MJ,_ like she had to Morgan, and there was the whole thing that Morgan said about how Michelle Jones… seemed to have a _crush_ on him.

That was a whole _other_ thing to try unpack, too. If — if Michelle Jones _liked_ him. That would be _insane._ Like… well, he _had_ liked Liz… but she had moved to Oregon with her mom — because it turned out that Adrien Toomes, the flying vulture guy, the guy that Katie had been fake working for under SHIELD, was Liz’s dad. And he’d been arrested, so… that ship seemed to have sailed.

It was kind of sad, because he _had_ liked her for quite a while, but… ir was fine. He… was cool with it. It was like, a week ago now, anyway. And it wasn’t like he ever had any chance at being with her anyway, because — well, she was a senior, and she was way out of his league, and… thinking back now, Peter was pretty sure that he had liked her just for like sake of, well… _liking_ someone.

Cindy and Michelle — Michelle, who Peter now couldn’t stop thinking about, because… well, she was really smart and cool, and thinking about it now, she _did_ seem to use him as one of her main models for her crisis sketches. And he _did_ catch her looking at him a lot.

Oh, fuck, he liked Michelle Jones. Maybe. Probably.

He needed to stop thinking about this. It wasn’t helping him in _any_ way. _Whatsoever._ He — he needed to stop.

Anyway. Cindy and Michelle had sat down on either side of his sister, and they were chatting quietly about — something to do with some Senior guy called Liam who they thought was hot.

“Okay.” He said quickly, before anyone could get too into their conversations. “So, uh… just for a bit of a warning, the news is happening to exist on the day that is after this one.”

“I —“ Cindy tilted her head in confusion. “Peter, what were you even _trying_ to tell us just now?”

Peter laughed. “I, uh — I don’t even know, dude. Um,” He sallowed — oh god, he looked like an idiot. Shit, shit, shit. “Anyway. The press conference about… _us._ And who we are, and all that — that’s happening tomorrow. At twelve thirty. Just — just so that you know. About it.”

“We already know.” Michelle said bluntly. “Every one knows.”

 _“What?”_ Peter stared at Michelle in confusion. “Wh — how? How does everyone know?”

“Well, they don’t know what it’s about, but, well, look at this.” Cindy opened her phone, searched something up, and then passed it to him.

“Oh, okay, uh…” Peter took the phone, and read what it was.

**_Stark Industries International._ ** _@starkindustriesofficialtwitter ·Apr 22, 2025_

_CEO of Stark Industries_ @PepperPottsCEO _and Owner and former CEO of Stark Industries_ @TheRealTonyStark _announce press conference on 04/25/2025 at 12:30 PM._

“Huh.” Peter said, somewhat blankly. “Okay. That’s… cool. It’s cool. Very — cool. That is very cool.”

Morgan grinned. “Fuck yeah… I mean, school will probably be a bit of a nightmare, and people will be annoying, but… It’ll be…”

“Freeing.” Peter finished foe her. “Like our entire lives won’t be a lie anymore. Which is cool. I _can’t wait!_ It’s gonna be _awesome.”_

“Everyone is gonna know that I’m best friends with _Peter Stark!”_ Ned said, whispering the last couple words quietly. “I mean, this is _so cool!_ We are friends with _Peter Stark_ and _Morgan Potts._ I _personally_ know Tony Stark. I… I forget that, sometimes. Wow, this is awesome. Cool!”

Peter laughed. “Surely we can invite them over to like… study or something — next week, when we’re at moms. Cause Cindy and Ned haven’t met her, and she’s super cool, and, I mean… Michelle, you should come too. She’s Pepper Potts. She’s pretty cool.”

“I mean… yeah. Okay.” Michelle shrugged.

“Awesome!” Morgan grinned. “Mum’ll be okay with that, right? You reckon that she’ll say yes?”

“I mean…” Peter shrugged. “There isn’t really any reason for her to say _no —_ I mean, it’s just three people that already know who we are, and they will probably be under the microscope after the announcement anyway, because people around here know that we all sit together and are… you know, sort of _friends_ and stuff.”

“I mean… we _are_ friends.” Michelle said. “Hence why you losers are allowed to call me MJ instead of just _Michelle_ like everyone else does.”

Peters jaw dropped, and so did Ned’s.

“I — we can —“ His best friend stuttered. “— you’ll let us call you MJ? Really?”

Michelle — _MJ! —_ shrugged again. “I mean… yeah. You can call me MJ.”

“Cool.” Ned nodded slightly. “Cool, cool, cool — Peter?”

“Yeah?”

Ned held his hand up for a fist bump, and Peter gladly obliged.

“Okay, now that whatever… _that_ was,” Morgan gestured to Peter and Ned vaguely. “Is all out the way, uh… I think what Peter was trying to say with mentioning the press conference is that we… need some sort of contingency plan. For you three. Just in case, because — well, the paparazzi are literal demons, and the, uh… like, a lot of people have personal vendettas against our mom and dad, and once the world knows that _we_ are their kids, uh, those vendettas will automatically transfer to Peter and I, and by extension, you guys _might_ get caught up in the crossfire, and we don’t want that to happen, so — so hence the contingency planning.”

“Right.” Peter agreed. “Yeah, that — that’s what I was getting at. A contingency plan.”

“That,” Cindy whispered, “Is Peter-language for I didn’t think of that because I am a huge idiot who has never planned for anything ever in my life in any way at all.”

“Wow, thanks so much for spilling all my secrets, Cindy. Love you too, my dearest, oldest friend.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Okay, anyway, contingency plan. Morgan, I guess you… have something planned ahead? In the way of a contingency plan? Because I don’t exactly have a… fully thought out _plan,_ as such, and I can think something up if you give me like, three minutes, but, uh… it would probably be easier for everyone if you had a planned ahead, uh — Potts-planned plan.”

“Technically anything you plan could be _‘Potts-planned’,”_ His sister air quoted. “Too, because — you know — we’re twins, and — you also have… moms _‘Potts’_ DNA too.” She sighed. “And I, uh — well, I didn’t exactly make a proper _plan,_ as such, either… I just kind of assumed that you might do that, which I… now realise is the opposite of your personality and that was my delirious dream at four in the morning this morning. So, uh — yeah. Oops.”

“Alright, uh — lets — just give me a hundred and fifty seven seconds. I’ll, uh — I’ll make a plan.”

Peter turned around on the bench he was sitting on, so that he was facing _away_ from everyone, and quickly put his head phones — the noise cancelling ones that his dad had made him in wake of finding out about his sensory overloads — in. He took a deep breath.

He needed to… have a back up plan. So that his friends wouldn’t get hurt by the paps and the villains that wanted to hurt his parents that would project that hatred onto him and Morgan.

They needed, like… a safe place that they could all head to, just in case. A safe house… Peter knew that his dad had a safe house — well, multiple safe houses — in New York City _alone,_ so they could give Ned, Cindy and MJ access to two or three of those.

Then… well, the next step would just be to do a full on Tony Stark, give them trackable watches that tracked where they were at any moment, an their vitals, and could tell FRIDAY if they were in basically any danger at all…

… That might be a little bit stalker-ish. Which might be… a bit counterproductive and… well, weird. He would have to ask Ned, Cindy and MJ if they were… _potentially_ alright with the watch thing. That might be the best plan.

He turned back around, and put his headphones back in the front pocket of his backpack. He crossed his arms on the table, and took another deep, calming breath. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, so we — well, _I_ actually, cause I’m pretty sure that Morgan doesn’t know about them — can give you the addresses to some of dads safe houses. There — well, we would have to make your phones more secure, just in case, but you could keep the addresses on them then. I… wouldn’t feel too comfortable with there being paper copies of that info, cause — you know, safe houses and secrets.”

“Okay.” Ned agreed. “That can work fine. Yeah! Tony Starks safe houses seem super cool, I’m awesome with that.”

“Alright.” Peter nodded. “Alright. The only other thing that I can really think of that we could do is something like these watches that Morgan and I have,” He showed them his watch quickly, and then pointed to Morgans one, which was basically the exact same. “They’re connected to FRIDAY, so — so she can track our location, our vitals, if we might be in imminent danger… and they have panic buttons. So tonight, we could _potentially_ make altered versions of these, where they only track your vitals and location and all that stuff _after_ the panic button is pressed — and, I mean… if you guys are uncomfortable with that, that is… completely okay. But it would be a way to help us… if any of you are ever in danger.”

“That seems awfully…” MJ paused. “Like surveillance. That’s what they want to do, so we probably shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Peter agreed. “It was more of a back up plan, anyway. Because if you have more secure phones, you can have the addresses or some of our safe houses, and I can give you Happys number and maybe, like… I dunno, Rhodey or Nats? Because, you know, Hap already has a job outside of stopping us from dying, so, uh — that is… basically all that I’ve got here for you in the way of… ideas.”

“Well, I mean,” Peters sister shrugged, and looked at all of them but Peter. “Yeah. He _is_ better at doing stuff under pressure than I am.”

“I kind of got that,” Cindy laughed. “Peter’s always been impulsive and good at like, winging things and all that, but you always seem to plan _everything_ that you do _very_ meticulously and always be like, one step ahead, so… it tracks that he’d be better under pressure.”

“Eh, I’m cool with that. Anyway, it means that I’m more like mom than him, which means that _I_ have the superior gene set.”

 _“Hey!_ That was _mean,_ dude.”

Peters sister poked her tongue out at him.

“Okay, that hurt even more, that was — heart breaking. My entire soul is on _fire_ now — _Morgan!”_

“Truth hurts, sweetie.”

“I’ll get you back for that one, buddy.” Peter threatened his sister in a low voice. “I will… get you _back,_ bro.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, uh — phones — does that mean that we should make Happy bring them back to fathers house with us after school today so that we can fix their phones up and give them the addresses and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. “Yeah, good plan.” He grabbed his phone out. “I'm gonna text Happy super quick.”

**_PETER:_ ** _hello uncle happy hap who’s real name is actually harold my dearest not uncle uncle_

**_PETER:_ ** _as it appears that my father has told me that you shalt be taking me and morgan back home after school_

**_PETER:_ ** _don’t mind me i texted that rlly super weirdly so yeah sorry about that :)_

**_PETER:_ ** _anyway could you p l e a s e bring a couple of our friends with us too???_

**_PETER:_ ** _p l e a s e <3_

**_PETER:_ ** _its only three extra people and i promise they won’t talk to you at all and i can get them to be very very silent_

**_HAP MAN:_ ** _Check with your old man first, kid. If he says that it is okay then I can bring your friends._

**_PETER:_ ** _thanks happyyyyyyyyy youre the besttttttt :)_

“Okay.” Peter said quickly, looking up from his phone. “I’ve just got to check that it’s alright with dad, then we’re good.”

**_PETER:_ ** _father it is i your only son and eldest child_

**_PETER:_ ** _can morgan and i have a couple friends over after school today?_

**_PETER:_ ** _just for a few hours ???_

**_DAD:_ ** _You can have Ned and Cindy over if you want, as long as their parents agree with it. They can stay as long as they want._

**_PETER:_ ** _… can mj also come bc she kind of knows whomst we are because she figured it out because she’s super smart and idk maybe miss hill said something to her bc she’s marias niece and she like knows FURY personally and all that so im pretty sure she’s trustworthy_

**_PETER:_ ** _and i mean everyone in the world will know by tmr so what harm could it really do bc she like already knows so…._

**_DAD:_ ** _Yes that’s fine, Kid. I’ll see you later on. Love you, Pete._

**_PETER:_ ** _love you too dad thank youuuuuuuuu <3_

“Right.” He smiled, and gave them awkward finger guns. “It’s cool. As long as you guys are allowed, you can come over. We can fix up your phones and have something that resembles _some_ sort of contingency plan!”

**_APRIL 25, 2025, 10:19 AM — AUDITORIUM AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

“What we’ve been thinking,” Peters mom started, over their — admittedly late — breakfast, smiling at Peter and his sister, and placing her hand over their fathers.

Peters parents had reached the point of showing casual affection to one another, and that made him happier than he previously thought was conceivably possible.

And yet, here he was.

“Shoot.” Morgan said, still gripping her half finished coffee with both hands, not fully awake yet.

He was completely aware that she hadn’t gone to sleep until three hours before she woke up, which was… _extremely_ counterproductive, but he couldn’t blame her. He also did that. It was a shared trait that they had. It was a dumb trait, but… yeah. They got the short end of the stick with that one.

“Okay.” Their dad continued. “We believe that you guys should _maybe_ consider… a _name change.”_

“A… name change?” Peter asked, looking between his parents confusedly. “I, uh — I don’t get it. Why do you want us to change our names?”

“I don’t — get it either?” Morgan said it more like a question, and she looked just as confused as he felt.

“A name change.” His mom confirmed, still smiling. “As in, you hyphenate your last names.”

Peter blinked. Then again. And again.

Hyphenating their names. Making their names double-barrel.

Stark-Potts or Potts-Stark. They could… merge their last names.

“Hyphenate our last names.” Peter murmured. “I… that is a _great_ idea. That is such a good idea. I… I love that idea — yes!”

Both of their parents grinned. His dad quirked an eyebrow. “Morgan? How about you? What do you think?”

Morgan paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, I like it. I like it a lot, that — that is a _great_ idea.”

His mom smiled at them, and pushed something across the table to them. “These are your birth certificates. They’re… updated. Obviously. Because before, it was just Stark, but now…”

Peter took his birth certificate, and a wide smile split across his face when he saw it. What it said. _Peter James Potts-Stark,_

He glanced over at Morgans — _Morgan May Potts-Stark —_ and saw a smile identical to his own on her face.

Peter James Potts-Stark and Morgan May Potts-Stark. Twins. The son and daughter of Anthony Edward Stark and Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts. That was cool. It sounded… right. It sounded how it was meant to sound.

**_APRIL 25, 2025, 12:30 PM — AUDITORIUM AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan had accidentally adopted her brothers bad habit of speaking Russian when she was nervous. She already had the _rambling_ issue, when she was put in tense situations, but the Russian just made it… _much_ more intense.

Maybe she shouldn’t have learnt how to speak the language overnight and become fluent by the end of the week. Like, being able to understand her brother when _he_ rambled in Russian was a positive, but rambling in Russian _herself_ was a bit of a step away from success.

“Петр, Петр, Петр, мой брат, чувак мы — мы получаем — они говорят всем ... как, я взволнован об этом, но ... но я все еще нервничаю, понимаешь? Это все еще меня нервничает. Дерьмо. Дерьмо. Ебать. Я бессвязный. Я бессвязный — Питер, пожалуйста, пожалуйста, пожалуйста, скажи мне заткнуться!”

_[(Peter, Peter, Peter, my brother, dude we — we are getting — they are telling everyone... like, I am excited about it, but... but I'm still nervous, you know? This is still making me nervous. Shit. Shit. Fuck. I'm rambling. I'm rambling — Peter, please, please, please tell me to shut up!)]_

“Заткнись, Морган.” Her brother said, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking… surprisingly calmly. “Все будет в порядке. Всё в порядке. Мы... с тобой все будет в порядке. Все в порядке. Это то, что мы хотели, не так ли?”

_[(Shut up, Morgan. Everything will be absolutely fine. It's okay. We... we're going to be okay. Everything is fine. This is what we wanted, right?)]_

“Okay.” Morgan just spoke in English. “Okay, you are… you are _right._ You’re right — of course you’re right, you’re Peter and you’re a genius and _of course_ you’re right.” She breathed out to try and calm herself. “This is going to be great. I just have nerves. Nerves are normal. I just have nerves, because I’m nervous, and I’m nervous because I’ve never been known to the entire world as my mothers daughter and that scares me a bit, because of what that —“

 _“Morgan!”_ Her brother sighed. “Morgan, Morgan. Morgan, Morgan. You — just take a breath, okay? Everything is _fine.”_

“Everything is fine.” She echoed him. “Everything is _fine._ Everything is completely and utterly fine. Все в порядке. Все в порядке. Все в порядке. Все в порядке. Все в порядке.”

_[(This is all fine. This is all fine. This is all fine. This is all fine. This is all fine.)]_

“You’re slipping into Russian again, Mo.” Peter murmured. “Seriously, look at that.” He pointed out to the stage, across from the wing that they were standing in, side-stage, to where their parents were both standing, waiting for the conference to start. “That’s mom and dad, getting along, letting us get the thing that we’ve both been wishing for since we started being able to understand what having a secret identity everywhere but at home even meant.”

“Right,” Morgan whispered. “This is everything that either of us has ever wanted. We… this is actually happening. This is real, and happening, and actually a thing.” She took another deep breath. “Okay. Okay, we got this.”

“We got this.” Her brother agreed.

“Alright.”

The press conference started. And, for some reason that Morgan didn’t understand, due to her fathers rather terrible history with press conferences and sticking to the cars (I am Iron Man, like, _really_ dude?), he was the one to speak first.

It really _didn’t_ make sense.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here with us today,” He started — surprisingly sticking to what sounded like something her mother would’ve approved of. Hopefully he was just sticking to the cars due to the magnitude of the situation. Hopefully. “I know that there had been a lot of intrigue surrounding my dear friend Miss Potts and I — especially in the way of my son, and Peppers daughter, who we have both been trying to hide from all —“ He gestured around the room. “— _this._ Press and fame and everything, for their childhoods. So that is what we are going to address here today — Miss Potts.”

“Thank you, Tony.” Morgans mom took his place.

Ah. That made sense. Their mom got the main bit to break to the world. She got to drop the bomb — because she was much better at all of that stuff. That made a lot more sense.

“On the tenth of August, 2010, my daughter was born. Morgan May. On that same day, not all that much earlier, Mister Starks son, Peter James, was born.” She looked across at where Morgan and Peter were in the wing, and gave them a small smile — telling them to come out. To accentuate the point more, their mother gave a short nod.

Morgan gave Peter a short pat on the shoulder, and a small smile. “We got this, bro. We’ll be alright. This is out literal dream.”

“Yep.” He smiled. “Lets go.”

They walked out together, and — there were a _lot_ of camera flashes. There were a lot of yells. There was… chaos. In the room.

Morgan wasn’t used to this sort of attention -- and even though it was possibly the most exciting moment of her life, she couldn’t help but _finally_ understand why her parents had wanted to shield them from this. If this hadn’t been what she had been waiting for, anticipating, for as long as she could remember, she would’ve been terrified. But, she _had_ waited in anticipation for this for as long as she could remember, so she was so… so, _so_ excited. She grinned. She smiled for the flashing the cameras.

This was _really_ great. So, _so_ great!

Their mom smiled at them, and their dad, somehow, appeared behind them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Morgan could see out of the corner of her eye that he was smiling brightly.

Which, when Morgan thought about it, was pretty funny. Because she was the same height as her dad (thanks to her moms tall genes), and Peter was just a bit shorter than him (thanks to their dads short genes).

“Peter James Potts-Stark, and Morgan May Potts-Stark.” Morgan could hear the pure, unadulterated _joy_ in her mothers voice. “As it has been theorised over the years, especially since I revealed that Tony and I were in a relationship in 2012, Peter and Morgan are the biological children of both Anthony Stark and I, as could probably be assumed by their surnames.”

There was a beat of silence, before the room exploded in noise.

It was a _very_ good decision — that she and Peter decided to make their surnames double barrelled. It kind of… tied them together. It was nice — to have something like that that they both had the same.

Even though it took _twelve years._ Nobody really needed to know that it took that long, but… Morgan was fine with that. And she knew that Peter was fine with it too.

She held her hands up to make the noise die down, and kept speaking. “They were born a few months after Tony returned from his time in Afghanistan, so obviously we were very hesitant to let anybody that didn’t trust _completely_ know about them. We have tried to keep them from the dangers that come with Tonys job, and everything that he suffered from when he was a child in the spotlight,”

 _“Yeet.”_ Peter whispered, making Morgan snort quietly.

“The chance of danger that comes with the fact that Tony is Iron Man is constant, and we didn’t want Morgan and Peter to get caught in the crossfire of that.” She paused for a moment, before continuing. “And, undoubtedly, the question of _why_ we waited so long to reveal this is because we wanted to give _them_ the choice, of when they get to be revealed to the world. So, I would like to officially introduce to the world; Peter and Morgan Potts-Stark.” Morgans dad moved to stand next to her mom, and they intertwined their hands, surprisingly without hesitation. “Our son and daughter.”

They were holding hands. It seemed... so insignificant. It was such a small gesture, and yet it filled her with so much stupid, blind _hope_ that it was almost concerning.

But, it meant that there really, _truly_ was hope for Morgan, and her brother, and their parents.

Peter was actually right. They _were_ going to be alright. Everything _was_ fine. This _is_ what they wanted.

And it was great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!! hi i am on a happiness high right now and... i mean, technically this is late, because its the 14th in australia and thats monday so... srry -- BUT ao3 still counts it as yesterday (im pretty sure) so its not technically technically late. 
> 
> and yes, i wrote 1000 words, left it for a week, and then spent the entire night finishing it. i am aware of my idiocy, and i would love to continue this, but i must go and have my life now as its 6:07 am and i do exist outside of whatever the hell this is :)
> 
> ALSO QUICKLY BEFORE I GO next chapter is probably the last one because if it was 16 chapters instead of 16 i would d i e so... it might be a bit longer. and later. but after that, this is all over, and i am v e r y excited for that
> 
> byeeeee


	16. PART FIFTEEN

**_APRIL 25, 2025, 12:51 PM — KATTIE REEDS APARTMENT, SOMEWHERE_ ** **_IN INWOOD, OUTSKIRTS OF MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Katie Reed had been feeling… very weird. Different to those around her. For a long time, now.

She could remember it from when she was young, watching movies and TV shows, where she _knew_ that the men were attractive, but couldn’t help but be drawn to the women. She remembered the first time she watched _Titanic,_ when it came out, and being unable to hate Rose for letting Jack die, because, well — _Kate Winslet —_ but then also — well, _Leo DiCaprio._

It was something she had been secretly denying for as long as she could remember — trying to deny that she was attracted to men _and_ women.

When she got married, she thought that was it. Her husband was a _man,_ and so nobody needed to know that she had an inexplicable attraction to women — and then, the first person she’d seen since her husbands death was Tony Stark, another man, and she just _knew_ that she was still denying something.

Katie still felt _it_ every time that she saw Maria Hill.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but — something about Maria was just so — seemed so _right._ And it made her confused.

Because she was with a man. She was dating Tony Stark — and yet… and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Maria Hill.

And, yeah. She liked Tony. She liked him a very much.

But, as she watched her boyfriends most recent press conference again — the one declaring that he and Pepper Potts had twins together — she knew that she was doomed. She could just _tell._ She could see it in the way that Tony looked at his ex — all the joy and love in his eyes and he held onto her hand.

Katie could tell that her boyfriend was still in love with Pepper Potts. And… yeah.

Yeah, it hurt. But for some _really_ strange reason, Katie didn’t mind — and her thoughts drifted back to Maria.

She’d been trying to deny it her entire life, but deep down, she knew. She had always known.

She was bisexual.

… and there was a very large chance that she had accidentally found herself falling for one Maria Hill.

And she _knew —_ she _knew_ that it was wrong — to be falling for someone that wasn’t her boyfriend, but… the novelty of dating Tony Stark was wearing off. He wasn’t… exciting, anymore. He was stressful, and had kids that Katie didn’t know how to deal with, and, y’know, there wan the fact that he was very clearly, very obviously in love with Pepper Potts. His ex. And that he wanted to be with Pepper more than he did Katie.

But… that was what made it — her crush (which, it was nice to finally admit that she liked her) Maria — okay. Tony barely paid her any mind anymore. Whenever she was with Maria, it was like the planets were aligning.

— Which, bad analogy, she was perfectly aware. But _still._

As much as Katie hated to admit it, she wanted to be with Maria. Wanted to spend her life with Maria, and live with Maria, and grow old with Maria.

And… well, maybe she was okay with her attraction to the other woman — now that she’d finally admitted to herself that she wasn’t straight. That she was bi.

It helped that Tony clearly still loved his ex. Katie just needed to break up with him, and then she could be with Maria, and Tony could be with Pepper, and they could both be happy.

She grabbed her car keys, and left her apartment, locking up behind her.

She was going to sort things out with Tony. She was going to ask out Maria.

She was going to publicly come out… Well, she was going to come out to one singular person that wasn’t herself — which was still absolutely terrifying, and filled her with so much dread.

**_APRIL 25, 2025, 1:17 PM — STARK FLOOR OF THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

“Well, uh…” Morgan let herself fall backward onto the couch in her dads private area of the compound, and covered her eyes with her hands. “I guess… I understand what mom and dad were trying to hide us from.”

“Yeah, that was _intense,”_ Her brother jumped onto the couch next to her, but upside down instead. “I mean, it was cool and all, but — dear my personal lord and saviour, the tofu god, it was a _lot._ Like, a lot, a lot. I dunno how mom and dad do it!”

“I don’t wanna see any human beings for like, a million billion more years. They asked so many _questions!”_

“I _know!”_ Peter exclaimed, turning his head to look at her. “Jesus, it’s like — the purge, or some shit! And they all care so much! Like, an _unnecessary_ amount? Why do they give a shit about mom and dads personal lives — like — you’d think they _wouldn’t_ care! Like — the fuck?”

“I mean… we already _knew_ that they were obsessed.” Morgan reasoned. She paused. “But I guess it’s a lot more… _confronting._ To see it firsthand.”

“Oh, one hundred percent.” Peter laughed. “And they’re _still_ out there answering questions and stuff! Like — legit, crazy shit. What more could they even say?”

“I don’t even _know,_ man.” She grabbed her phone. “Lets see what the twitter has to say about it.”

“Oh, a BuzzFeed after that.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, and opened twitter. “Okay, lets see — Tony Stark Pepper Potts press conference,recent… there we go. Oh, amazing, the first one is from the bugle.”

**_The Daily Bugle._ ** _@dailybugleofficialnews_

 _Press conference by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts confirms that they actually have teenage twins together; result of both of their scandalous pasts. Read the comprehensive article_ **https://www.dailybuglenews.com/celebrity/1615202019-1911811/**

Morgan moved her phone, so that Peter could read it, and he snorted. “Wow,” He laughed. “It’s almost as if Jameson just wants to cause this family pain. Oh, dad’s Iron Man? Publicity Stunt. Mom launches a new phone and it takes off? Money laundering scheme. We go help people? Menaces.”

“Yeah,” Morgan scoffed. “He sucks, his company sucks, everything about him sucks. Cancel J.J. Jameson and the Daily Bugle, 2025.”

“Let's do it.” Peter looked at his own phone, and Morgan could see a _lot_ of text messages from whoever he was talking to. “Listen to this, dude — these are from Flash.”

“Flash, like school Flash?”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “Flash: ‘Do you know when the science homework is due? Wait. Holy shit.’ All caps, ‘how did you never tell us that your dad is Iron Man? Holy fucking shit. That is awesome dude. Wait the new kid is your sister. Why did we never know you had a sister? Jeez they sent you to different schools just so nobody knew that either of you had a twin? What the fuck dude —“

“— okay, yeah. I think I’m getting what the deal with that is. Yeah.”

Peter snorted. “Yeah. Ridiculous. Like, he’s a dick to me for literally as long as we’ve known each other, and this is the first time he’s ever texted me about something other than like, homework or decathlon.”

“Yeah. I’m probably gonna be hearing from some people that I would… rather not hear from.”

“Your decidedly not-friends? Millie-Vicotria Stirling? Jason Milton?

“Those are the ones.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Also not looking forward to Raina and Chelsea finding out, either. They’re gonna be so mad at me. And then they’ll be mad at Maddie for not telling them, and — it’ll just be a whole big mess. They — oh, god, I feel so bad for not telling them!”

“Eh, it’ll be fine, surely.” Her brother shrugged. “It’s not like they can actually do anything about it — they’re literally on the opposite side of the country.”

“Yeah, that helps heaps, thanks.” Morgan took a deep breath, then opened their group chat with her eyes closed.

Fuck, this wasn’t going to end well, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit —

— she opened her eyes to an onslaught of texts from her friends.

**_RAINA:_ ** _MORGAN MORGAN MORGAN MORGAN MORGAN MORGAN MORGAN MAY STACY_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _HOW????_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _HOW DID WE NOT LIKE_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _KNOW????_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _OH HCVBASYGFO IT ALL SEEMS SO OBVIOUS NOW HOW DID WE NOT SEE THIS????_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _ARE YOU GUYS FREAKING OUT BC I AM FREAKING OUT!!!_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _AND YOU HAVE A BROTHER!! HOW?? HOW DIDNT WE KNOW THAT YOU HAD A BROTHER?? HOW DIDNT WE KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A DAD??_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _BQWFFBX3NWEHFOUXHEROIUFHRI245H493HF_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _DID YOU GUYS KNOW??????_

**_CHELSEA:_ ** _ibfohdbsocfberwovurebov no ofc i didn’t know!!!_

 **_CHELSEA: m_ ** _organ wHy and HoW and WhaT and_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _my entire life is a lie._

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _you have broken my brain._

**_MADDIE:_ ** _i mean…._

 **_MADDIE:_ ** _technically morgans life is a lie not yours_

**_CHELSEA:_ ** _OH MY GOD MADDIE YOURE IN ON IT!!!_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _you kNEW AKUDOEBCOWSABC_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _MADDIE GIRL HOW ON EARTH DID YOU KNOW???_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _DID THEY TELL YOU OR DID YOU FIND OUT ACCIDENTALLY???_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN??_

Morgan laughed, before she started typing her reply — it was too good of a set up for her to just ignore it, so…

**_MORGAN:_ ** _a month or so…_

**_MADDIE:_ ** _morgan nO_

 **_MADDIE:_ ** _dOnT yOu FuCkiNg DaRe_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _eLiZa yOu ShOuLd’vE tOLd Me_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i wrote to the general a month ago_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _nO_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i begged him to send you home_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _yOu sHouLd’Ve toLd mE_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _im not soRRY_

**_RAINA:_ ** _MORGAN MAY STACY I HAVE SOME PROBLEMS TO BRING UP WITH YOU KHAJSOAYVEOUVAUVA_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _*MORGAN MAY STARK POTTS_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _WAIT NO IT NEEDS THE DASH_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _STARK-POTTS_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _OR IS IT POTTS-STARK?_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _BIDWBQICNFDSI MORGAN WHICH ONE IS ITTTT_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _yeah that ones how you spell it_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _the last one_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _Potts-Stark_

**_RAINA:_ ** _weLL_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _WE STILL NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT yOu ARE THE DAUGHTER OF PEPPER POTTS AND IRON MAN WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE NON EXISTENT LORD_

 **_RAINA:_ ** _WhY DiDnT yOu TeLL aNyOnE???_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _aNyWaY_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i didn’t tell anyone bc mom and dad are paranoid and didn’t want peter and i to get the murdered or the kidnapped or anything like that so we’ve never been allowed to talk about u know the whole being related to people thing and all of that so we haven’t ever been ALLOWED to talk about it_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _and yeah uh maddie knew_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _she’s known since we were seven so uh_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _yeah_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _oops_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _sorry for like,,, being the child of my parents and all that it wasn’t my idea_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _its_ _completely on mom and dad._

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _it is the fault of them._

**_CHELSEA:_ ** _YEAH WELL ITS NOT LIKE WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOUR MOM AND DAD ARE PEPPER POTTS AND TONY STARK_

 **_CHELSEA:_ ** _HOLY SHIT DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOURE GONNA INHERIT STARK INDUSTRIES??_

**_MORGAN:_ ** _honestly idk_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _i think we might get like…ownership of the company… not sure though_

 **_MORGAN:_ ** _we haven’t exactly had that conversation_

**_RAINA:_ ** _aoiyvhjsvjhvbjhbahsb ad jhbsjhblhueg_

Morgan put her phone down on the couch next to her, and sighed. “Yeah. I was right. This isn’t fun.”

Peter looked over at her, frowning. “Honestly I’m the last person in the world to be able to give you friend advice because I have like, two friends, and they’re not legally allowed to stop being friends with me, cause they’ve known about dad for so long and stuff, and, uh — y’know. But _I_ think that you should probably, like — you should call them. Like, _video_ call them. They’re your friends, and like — you haven’t been talking to them as much since we re-met, and with everything with mom and dad, and… and you need to talk this through with them properly.”

“Mm.” Morgan groaned. “I guess I’ve gotta do it. Thanks, dude — I’ll be in my room if you need me, for… anything.”

“Cool.” Peter nodded, and kept looking at his phone. “You have fun with that. Good luck, bro.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Morgan grabbed her phone from the couch, and walked up to her bedroom.

She sat down at her desk, and propped her phone up against the lamp on it so that she didn’t have to hold it.She face timed the group chat, and rested her head on her arms on the desk.

They answered pretty soon, and soon enough everyone had joined. “Hey, guys.” Organ smiled. “It’s ya boy.”

 _“Morgan!”_ Raina exclaimed first — obviously attempting to look mad, but looking like she was _actually_ going to start grinning any second. _“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell us! This is insane!”_

 _“And Maddie knew too!”_ Chelsea joined. _“Maddie why didn’t_ you _tell us! This whole time you’ve known!”_

 _“…Sorry guys.”_ Maddie shrugged. _“But I’ve been legally sworn to secrecy since I was like, seven years old, so I kind of… couldn’t. Like,_ legally _couldn’t tell you, so… yeah. Sorry.”_

“I have _also_ technically been sworn to secrecy, but since before my birth, so… yeah.”

 _“And you have a_ brother!” Chelsea gasped. _“And I watched the press conference — you didn’t tell us that your brother is_ hot — _you didn’t tell us that you had a brother, period! How couldn’t you tell us that you had a twin brother!”_

“Oh god, I…” Morgan groaned. “Can you guys — keep a secret? Like, if I tell you something very confidential, can you not tell anyone?”

_‘Oh, shit — I already know this one too. This is the fucking tea, guys.”_

“Thanks for that, Mads,” She rolled her eyes. “It’s very helpful. Thank you, _so much.”_

 _“You’re welcome.”_ Maddie grinned, and winked.

_“Okay, now that whatever that was is over, yes, we can keep a secret — right, Chels?”_

_“Yeah.”_ Chelsea nodded, agreeing with Raina. _“Of course. We can keep a very confidential secret. So… yeah. You can tell us.”_

 _“Yep!”_ Raina smiled.

“Okay. Okay, cool.” Morgan took a deep breath, and then started speaking very fast. “Так что, я на самом деле не знаю, что у меня есть брат, пока мама, и я переехала в Нью-йорк, и мы встретились в школе, и вид... Понял это оттуда, а потом я притворилась им, и он притворился мной, чтобы я мог встретиться с папой, и он мог встретиться с мамой, а — потом они узнали о том, что мы сделали и все такое, и теперь — и теперь мы делаем одну неделю у мам и одну неделю у пап. Да.”

_[(So, I didn't actually know that I had a brother until mom and I moved to New York, and we met at school, and kind of... figured it out from there, and then I pretended to be him and he pretended to be me, so I could meet dad and he could meet mom, and — then they found out about what we did and all that, and now — and now we do one week at moms and one week at dads. Yeah.)]_

All three of her friends blinked slowly. Chelsea rubbed her forehead confusedly. _“Was that… was that Russian? Do you speak Russian? Since when do you speak Russian? Have you always spoken Russian? I am — I am_ so _confused.”_

“I speak Russian since I learnt it when I found out that my Aunt Nat has been teaching my brother how to speak it since he was like, three, so — yeah.” She smiled. “And now I speak Russian.”

 _“Okay… go back…”_ Raina looked confused. _“You have another Aunt? Other than the your Aunt on your moms side? And your Uncle with the nice car?”_

“Yeah.” Morgan nodded, and counted them off on her fingers. “Aunt Nat — Natasha Romanoff, y’know, Black Widow… Aunt May, dads older sister, clearly, and Uncle Rhodey, dads best friend.” She smiled. “Yeah. It’s cool.”

_“Okay, anyway,” Raina shook her head. “Uh — can you tell us the thing you were saying, because… none of us speak Russian, and I’m pretty sure I speak for all of us when I say that I am just — confused.”_

_“We are.”_ Maddie agreed. _“None of us understood any of that.”_

Morgan laughed. “Yeah that was kind of — the point. Basically, I didn’t know that I had a brother or a dad, and then mom and I moved to New York, and I started school at Peters school, and we met and we — y’know, found out. That we were twins. And then we swapped places for a few days, so that I could meet dad and Pete could meet dad, and — then they found out, and now we do a week at moms and a week at dads, and — yeah. Cool.”

 _“Jesus fucking shit!”_ Chelsea exclaimed — Making Morgan, Maddie, and Raina all gasp.

 _“Holy shit —“_ Maddie whispered. _“Did she —”_

 _“— did Chelsea Matthews — Chelsea Grace Matthews —_ our _Chelsea Grace Matthews — did she just —“_

“Chelsea Grace Matthews you just fucking swore!” Morgan exclaimed. “You just _swore!_ I have _never_ heard you swear before!”

 _“This is fucking insane!”_ Maddie exclaimed. _“Chelsea Grace Mattews, as I live and breathe —“_

Chelsea looked so fucking done. _“Okay, why are y’all flipping out about me saying_ Jesus fucking shit _and not about the fact that Morgan didn’t know that her dad was Iron Man, huh? Or that she had a brother — a_ twin _brother — and she had no clue?”_

 _“Bad coping mechanisms, that’s why”_ Morgan gave her friends a ‘Stark wink’, as Peter would called it, and shot them awkward finger guns.

 _“Good job, Morgs.”_ Raina laughed. _“So — do we get to be introduced to the hot brother?”_

Morgan graned. _“_ Guys, _please_ don’t call my brother hot. It — is just weird.”

 _“Aw, come on, Margs — your whole family is hot. Somehow y’all just got superior genetics.”_ Maddie grinned.

“I greatly disagree with that.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean — yeah. Please just don’t call my family hot, that’s just — weird. Very, very weird. Makes me uncomfy.”

 _“So, uh — do we get to meet your brother?”_ Chelsea asked sweetly.

“Uh —“ Morgan tilted her head to the side slightly. “— no. Not yet, at least. There’s stuff going on, so — I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys! Love you!”

She hung up on the call, all of her friends saying quick _‘_ bye’s and ‘ _love you’_ s in return.

She went to sit with her brother again, and he had a shit eating grin on his face. Morgan raised one eyebrow. “What?” She asked.

Peters grin widened, somehow. “Oh, y’know — just glad that your friends think that I’m hot. Does wonders for my self esteem, so — tell them I say thanks!”

Morgan threw a pillow at her brother, glaring at him. “You are such a dick!” She exclaimed, continually hitting him with the pillow as he cackled evilly.

**_APRIL 25, 2025, 5:43 PM — AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

Peter couldn’t help but grin as he listened to his dad and Katie Reed talking quietly in his fathers bedroom.

Eavesdropping wasn’t really something that he did consciously; he just kind of… stumbled across conversations, and then didn’t realise that he was listening to them until he became very, _very_ invested in what was happening.

It was kind of like watching TV, but without the visual aspect — like when he listened to Netflix while doing his homework… and it was comforting, in a way. Knowing that the random conversations he listened to throughout his days were between real people, living real lives. It made him feel more in touch with people.

In this case, though, it was kind of unfortunate. Because he’d listened to Katie come out to his dad as bi, and then talk about Maria Hill for twenty minutes, and then she _broke up_ with _Tony Stark._

It was… okay, though. Because his dad was taking it fine, and it was clear from their conversation that Katie wanted to pursue Maria, and that she couldn’t do that while she was still with Tonys dad.

And it also helped Peter and Morgans plan — because without Katie there as a block between them, they could properly fall in love again (which they weren’t far from already), without the guilt that came with falling in love while in a relationship — without actually cheating. Because cheating wasn’t a good thing to happen, and Peter wouldn’t want his father to do that — and especially not to Katie Reed, who he actually liked quite a lot, now. Since she dropped the act she’d been trying to maintain when they first met for her SHEILD mission.

Katie was a lot nicer, and Peter knew now that she deserved a happy ending — she deserved a happy ending, _with_ Maria Hill.

He had to check on how the _Maria_ part of Marie was going, so he got out his phone to text MJ.

**_PETER:_ ** _hey mj_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so um,,,.,_

 **_PETER:_ ** _katie just broke up with my dad and came out as bi to him so she’s like_

 **_PETER:_ ** _aVaLiaBLe to be with maria now bc she’s not actually in a relationship anymore_

 **_PETER:_ ** _so how’s the maria end of things looking to you???_

 **_PETER:_ ** _like do you reckon that they’ll get together or no_

It only took her a few minutes to reply.

**_MJ (MICHELLE):_ ** _i havent seen maria for a couple weeks but i have heard her on the phone with my mom, and as far as i can tell, the feeling is mutual._

**_PETER:_ ** _that’s good._

 **_PETER:_ ** _it sounds a lot like katies gonna make a move pretty soon, so…_

 **_PETER:_ ** _yEaH_

**_MJ (MICHELLE):_ ** _that’s cool. bc as cool as aunt m being a strong independent woman is i would honestly much rather she become a gay icon with another cool ass shield agent woman ;)_

**_PETER:_ ** _hahaha yeah_

 **_PETER:_ ** _aNyWaY mY dUde_

 **_PETER:_ ** _ive gotta go now_

 **_PETER:_ ** _but ill see you at school on monday_

**_MJ (MICHELLE):_ ** _see you at school loser_

**_PETER:_ ** _bye :)_

He smiled to himself as he threw his phone down on his bed.

Okay, so _maybe_ he still had a little bit of a crush on MJ. It wasn’t going to go anywhere, though. Because he was, as Morgan would say, a pussy. And because he had other stuff going on right now that was indisputably more important that a petty crush.

Plus, Peter believed that things sort of fell into place the way they were meant to be, mainly outside of conscious decision — hence how his weird family situation was working.

He left his room, and went to annoy his dad. He’d heard Katie leave, so it would be okay.

Peter was certain that Katie and his dad would remain friends. Surely.

“Hey, dadddd!” He exclaimed, sitting down on his dad swivel chair and grabbing a clicky pen from the mans desk, just to be even more annoying. “I heard you got dumped.”

“That I did, oh wise one.” His dad laughed. “You been eavesdropping again, Pete?”

“Not _intentionally…”_

His dad shrugged. “It’s fine — it’s for the best, anyway. We weren’t — we grew apart, and we _both_ realised that we weren’t with who we really wanted to be with, and… it’s fine. We’ll stay friends, and we ca both move on with our lives. Which is as good as we could possibly get, so I’m happy with it.”

Peter smiled. “I’m glad that you’re happy, dad.” His smile merged into a smirk. “So… who’s the person that you’ve realised that you _actually_ want to be with?”

“Oh shut up, kid.” Peters father rolled his eyes. “Either you know and you’re teasing me, or you don’t know, but you have a clear idea. And I don’t really want to find out which it is. Go annoy your mom instead.”

Peter dropped the pen back down on the table, and stood up, grinning at his dad. “Any clue where mom actually _is?_ I haven’t seen her since you guys came up after all of the questions.

His dad frowned, then shrugged. “I’m guessing she’s working, in the office, but I can’t be completely sure, so don’t come to me if she isn’t there.”

“Hey, FRI?” He asked instead. “Do you know where mom is? I need to find her.”

“Miss Potts is currently in Boss’ office, replying to emails concerning the recent press conference to do with the legacy of Stark Industries, and what it will mean for the future of the company.”

“Thanks, FRI.” Peter turned, and started leaving the room. “Bye, dad!” He called over his shoulder.

“Dinner’s at six!” His dad called in return. “Don’t let your mom or your sister forget — Mays bringing Chinese.”

Peter grinned, and followed FRIDAYs directions, going to his dads messy office.

His mom was there, as promised, though she had changed into casual clothes, and put her hair up, since the press conference. “Hey, mom.” Peter waved to her, and went to sit in the corner of the room. “Whatcha doing?”

His mom glanced at him, and let out a quiet shriek.

He looked at her confusedly, and then laughed. “Oh, I’m — sorry, mom.” He kept laughing between his words. “I didn’t — didn’t realise that I was on — the ceiling.”

His mom continued to stare at him like he was insane.

Peter flipped down to the ground, and gave his mother a short hug, still grinning like an idiot. “Sorry — sorry, mom. I forget, sometimes… I didn’t even — I have no clue how I ended up on the roof. No recollection of that happening. Uh — yeah. Oops. Sorry about that.”

His mom blinked a couple of times, then shook her head. “Right. Okay — shit, my child has spider powers. Shit.”

“You forget?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Clearly.” She sighed. “Okay. Alright. What do you need?”

Peter shrugged. “Nothing, really. Morgans on the phone with her California friends for the two billionth time today, and dad’s sulking because Katie just broke up with him, so I figured I’d come hang out with you instead.”

“Katie… broke up with him?” Peters mom asked, and he saw something like hope light up in her eyes.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m not meant to know, but I heard, and as it turns out she’d bisexual and is now — most likely —pursing Maria Hill.”

His mom blinked again, slower this time. “Huh. Good for her. I can… yeah. I can see that. Them.”

Peter grinned. “Yeah! Also, May’ll be here for dinner in like, fifteen minutes, so like… maybe start to finish up with that stuff.”

His mom nodded. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll be done in a couple minutes.”

**_APRIL 26, 2025, 12:03 AM — AVENGERS COMPOUND, UPSTATE NEW YORK, NEW YORK._ **

“Peter, look — look at this one!”Morgan snorted, looking at her laptop. _“‘Disturbingly Scandalous Pasts of Stark Industries Owner and CEO Revealed: The Truth Behind The Fame.”_

Her brother laughed, but shook his head, pointing to the next result on Google. “No, no, no — look at this one — _‘Why The Future Of Stark Industries Is Hopeless: Past Mistakes and Illegitimate Heirs.’”_

“Bugle.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Of course. Alright, lets see why our existence is a curse.”

“Mm — and it’s their _second_ article about it since the conference.”

“Fucking hell.” Morgan murmured. “Why in the name of literally anything do they hate us so much?” She pressed on the article.

Peter just shrugged as the article loaded, and appeared on the screen of her laptop.

**_Why The Future Of Stark Industries Is Hopeless: Past Mistakes and Illegitimate Heirs._ **

_WRITTEN BY: J. JONAH JAMESON, NORAH L. WINTERS; 04/26/2025_

_As revealed in a press conference held earlier today by Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts and owner, Tony Stark, the mysterious daughter of Potts and son of Stark are actually_ **_twins._ ** _Though it has not yet been confirmed what this means for the future of the company, and whether ownership of Stark Industries will be passed down to the children, or sold to another, the reveal has brought up many musings concerning how the children came to be — and what that means for the reputation of CEO and_ _Forbes Most Influential Woman Of The Year_ _, Pepper Potts._

 _While the nature of Starks escapades, lasting until his kidnapping in 2010, has always been known and largely publicised, due to his influence, fame and wealth, those of Potts, who was, until becoming CEO in 2011, not very well known, remain rather secret. Potts revealed, during the press conference, that the children, Peter and Morgan Potts-Stark, we’re born on the tenth of August, 2010 — approximately two months after Stark’s return from his three capture in Afghanistan. On average, it takes 35 weeks to carry twins to term, meaning that the children would’ve been conceived around the 10th of December, 2009 —_ **_before_ ** _Stark cleaned up his act, upon his return to the US from Afghanistan._

**_And this begs the question: how did this happen?_ **

_An investigation of Pepper Potts past, and why she, Stark, and their illegitimate, out of wedlock children cannot —_

Morgan exited the article, and ran a hand down her face, groaning.

“Sorry.” She said, frowning to her brother briefly. “That was… not fun to read. I don’t like it — and I don’t want to keep reading that.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, it’s — not that fun. Yeah. And it’s like — always _them,_ that have shit to say about us, like — _why?”_

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Because they want money, attention, and to appeal to boomers.”

“Yeah, you got it in one. That’s it.” Peter laughed. “Alright -- let’s… stop reading about what the world thinks about us — you wanna watch Shrek?”

“Surely Shrek two.”

“Mmmm” Peter tilted his head slightly. “Why not Shrek one?”

“Because I know it by heart -- and also because human Shrek is low-key attractive.”

Her brother snorted. “Okay, that is true. You got me there.”

“So Shrek two?”

“Sure.”

**_APRIL 27, 2025, 8:20 AM — MIDTOWN SHOOL OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

It was weird — being back at school after the weekends big announcement. He and Morgan were back at there moms, and so it had been Azzy that drove them to school; which was nice. Azzy was refreshing to be around, and she was _very_ good at making you forget your stresses and worries.

But the calm that Peter had felt on the way to school, thanks to his mothers assistant, had disappeared when he and his sister walked into their school, to find heads turning, people whispering, and, unsurprisingly, a huge amount of paparazzi.

There were guards — whom Peter could tell were employed by SI, thanks to their uniforms — warding the crowd of reporters and paps off, and helping people that weren’t dropped at Midtown actually get into the school.

Peter knew that they were headed to Ned’s locker, to meet up with Ned, Cindy and MJ, but getting there was a slow process, thanks to all the people surrounding them — most of whom Peter had never seen in his life.

They were following him and Morgan, asking them questions about their parents and the Avengers. It was loud. It was so, so loud, and Peter could hear it getting louder, his enhanced senses picking up on both the people surrounding them immediately, but far away whispers, people that weren’t even near them, heart beats, breathing, footsteps, _everything —_ everything was getting brighter; he could see every dust particle in the air, every tiny detail on the faces around him, smell the horrible mixture of cheap body sprays and deodorants and the dumb football guys that hadn’t put deodorant on after morning practice, and —

— Morgan yanked his arm, dragging him out of the crowd, and then yelling something very loudly that he couldn’t quite understand, thanks to the muddle of sounds and thoughts and smells and pain in his brain.

Slowly, as Morgan continued to drag him away, the noises began to become less loud and imposing, and with that, his senses calmed down a lot.

“You okay now?” Morgan asked him softly.

Peter nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, sorry, I just —”

“— sensory overload.” Morgan said, sitting him off. “From you, y’know — _senses.”_

“Yeah.” Peter sighed. “Yeah, it doesn’t happen too much, but — it hurts, and when it’s loud and like that,” He gestured behind him vaguely. “Then it gets real not good.”

“Alright.” Morgan patted his shoulder gently. “Are you okay to walk on your own? Do you need help with anything?”

Peter shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine — I’m fine, I was just overwhelmed… what did you say to them, by the way?”

Morgan cheeks reddened, undoubtedly in embarrassment. “I screamed at the top of my lungs for them to fuck off and leave us alone.”

“Sweet baby Yoda.” Peter breathed. “The press isn’t gonna be a fan of that, bro.”

Morgan smirked. “Well, fuck them. Just because they know who we are now, doesn’t give them the right to come to our school uninvited and surround us — and doesn’t give all _those_ people the right to try ask us about our parents, when they’ve never even spoken to us. So, they should fuck off.”

“Fair point.” Peter grinned. “Hey, Ned! Cindy! MJ! How were your weekends?”

“Eh, not too interesting.” MJ shrugged, speaking before Ned or Cindy could, and leaning casually against the wall of lockers. “My Aunt M went on a date yesterday, by the way.”

Peter paused for a second — wondering if it really _could be —_

“A date?” Morgan asked, no doubt thinking along the same lines as Peter was.

“Yeah. Some lady she works with. Apparently Agent Romanoff recruited her to help with the case where they busted that guy that was dressing up as a Vulture —”

“— Liz’s dad.” Cindy added.

MJ nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. Anyway, he name’s Katie, and —”

“Oh my god, MJ, you _suck!”_ Peter exclaimed. “Shit! You couldn’t have just said, ‘hey guys, the lady that you were trying to set up with my moms adopted sister asked her out, and they went on a date, so good job, the plan worked’?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “I could’ve — but it was more fun to make you guys wait.”

“Damn.” Morgan murmured. “Katie Reed works quick — she only broke up with dad on Saturday, and she had a date the next day.”

“Damn.” Peter, Ned and Cindy echoed.

**_APRIL 27, 2025, 3:17 PM — POTTS PENTHOUSE, UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan, very understandably, was filled with a sense of deja vu, when they opened the door to their mothers apartment, and her brother froze and looked up suddenly, his eyes wide and filled with something between fear and readiness to fight.

It was exactly what happened when they came home to find Aunt Ginger, Uncle Carson, Violet and Delilah in their home, so Morgan assumed that her brother could hear something — maybe another person in the house.

“What can you hear?” She whispered, keeping her voice as low and quiet as she could.

Her brother frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “It’s — it sounds like dad…” she must have had a weird expression, because he began to explain. “Dad has a really, really irregular heartbeat, and — and it sounds like that, but really fast, and I can hear —” his face went blank. “— come with me. Stay as quiet as you can.”

They silently crept through the entrance, Peter staying close to the wall, and Morgan copying her brother, as they neared the living room.

Peter peeked around the corner, and then turned back, clearly trying to hold back laughter. “Take a look at this. It’s hilarious.”

Morgan peeked around the corner, and froze. It took all of her self control not to burst out laughing.

Her parents were in the living room — and they were together.

Like, _together._

_Kissing._

Her _parents_ were _kissing each other._

_Ew…_

But also, like… kind of not ew — because that _had_ been the eventual goal that she and her brother had; to get their parents back together.

And they were successful.

Peter held a finger to his lips, and waved his phone slightly. She nodded.

Her brother typed something in, and then turned the volume the quietest it would go, before pressing play on whatever it was.

 _“Whats goin’ on ‘ere?Go on, make way, make way — Potter… what’ you…”_ The music cut back and forth, and then turned into an absolute bop. _“You’ve. Murdered. My cat. I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA!”_

Morgans brother turned the volume up a tiny bit, making it louder and louder as the Harry Potter Filch remix went on, waiting for their parents to notice.

_“You’ve. Murdered. My cat. I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! Make way, make way, make way, make way — pull yer’selves together men, got to have ya wits about ya — make way, make way, make way, make way, oooh, dear, we are in trouble.”_

By that point, the volume was loud enough for their parents to hear, as both adults broke apart, looking around.

Morgan poked her brother, and he peeked around the corner, and, once he knew that _they_ knew that someone was there, he turned it to full volume.

_“You’ve. Murdered. My cat. I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! You’ve. Murdered. My cat. I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YA! — students out of bed! Students in the corridor! They are supposed to be out of bed you blithering idiot…….. oh for gods sakes, pull yer’selves together men.”_

“Morgan!” Their mom exclaimed, at the same time as their dad yelled, “Peter.”

They both burst out laughing. Morgan stood up, and went to sit cross bedded on the end of the couch opposite to her mom and dad, her brother joined her.

“So…” Morgan wiggled her eyebrows a bit. “What’ve ya’ll been up to in here?”

“Yeah you been…” Peter paused for emphasis. “Getting _busy?”_

Their parents both glared at them, making Morgan and her brother laugh more.

Peter smirked. “So, father… this is the what you meant when we talked after you got dumped?”

Peter had told her about that — how their dad said the break up was okay, because Katie Reed wasn’t the one that he really wanted to be with.

Her dad let out a long sigh. “… yes.”

“Yes!” Morgan and her brother exclaimed at the same time, giving each other victory high fives.

“I _knew it!”_ She exclaimed. “Pete, bro, dearest brother, we were _right!”_

“We were _right!”_ Peter echoed, grinning. “Haha, we were _right,_ suckers!” He jumped up, and Morgandid too. “Peace out, homies!” Peter yelled, and they both ran down the hall, to Morgan room.

“We did it!” She yelled.

“Yeah!” They high five-d again.

“Peter…” Morgan said, quieter than before. “Peter, our parents are together.”

“Holy shit.” He whispered. “Yeah. Mom and Dad are together. Holy shit.”

“I can’t _believe_ it.” Morgan breathed. She fell backwards onto her bed. “That was real, right? I didn’t imagine that? We actually just walked in on mom and dad like —“ She cringed. “— _making out?”_

Peter snorted in laughter. “That we did, dearest sister. That we fucking did.”

“Ебать…” Morgan muttered. “Cazzo. Fuck. Whatever we did, it worked. They’re — they’re together!”

 _[(Fuck…_ [Russian]. Fuck. [Italian]. _)]_

“They’re _together.”_ Peter repeated. “We actually got them back together.”

Morgan laughed. “Hey, if they manage to stick it out this time, where do you reckon we’ll live — here, to dad’s place?”

Her brother scoffed. “Dads. One hundred percent. We’ve had that house _forever,_ it has a garden, all the suits and everything are there, it’s bigger — definitely dads. Plus, I have an emotional attachment to that house — are you emotionally attached to this place?”

She rolled her eyes. “I have an emotional attachment to my oil paint palette and _Shoot to Thrill_ by ACDC. Not this place.”

“Case and point.” Peter nodded. “We will all live in dads house. I call it. I absolutely fucking call it.”

Morgan laughed at her brother, rolling over in her bed to face him properly. “Okay, okay, we get it, dude. Chill.”

Peter glared at her, and she laughed.

They successfully got their parents back together. This was _great!_

**_JUNE 21, 2025, 9:58 PM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“WE’RE NOT LATE!” Peter yelled as he burst into the house through the door to the back yard, his sister close behind.

His parents — his mom had been spending _a lot_ of time at his dads house since they got back together — were both sitting on the couch, both looking very relieved that he and his twin sister weren’t bleeding out in an alley somewhere.

Peter got stabbed and shot and hurt in general a lot less, nowadays.

“And we have a surprise!” Morgan exclaimed, turning to face their parents —

— and revealing the tabby kitten that she’d been carrying all the way home.

Their parents relieved smiles both dropped.

“His name is Mowgli.” Peter added helpfully. “Can we keep him?”

Peters dad buried his face in his hands, and his mom looked panicked as she began to speak. “Honey, I don’t think that keeping him is really the best… idea, right now. Especially since he’s only a baby, and he’s a stray…. He won’t be toilet trained, or have any of his shots, and I’d be surprised if he can eat solid food…”

“Well train him!” Morgan exclaimed. “And we can take him to the vets to get him up to date on shots, and we’ll feed him until he can eat solid food… _please,_ mom, dad. _Please!”_

“Please.” Peter added, looking up at his parents sadly. “He’s just a little baby! And he’s so skinny, and — and, if you are _right,_ and he _can’t_ eat solid food, then he won’t be able to eat _anything_ out on the street, and he’ll starve! _Please!_ I promise that we’ll do absolutely everything to train him and feed him and look after him! And he only has to stay inside for a few months — he can be an outdoor cat, so that we dont have to have a litter tray! _Please!”_

Their parents exchanged a glance, and Morgan stepped closer to them, showing them the tiny cat in her arms.

“Look at him.” Peters sister said softly, tilting forward so that their parents could see the kittens tiny face. “He’s so cute! And we can’t just throw him back to the street now! Please let us keep him! Please, please, please!”

It was their mom that caved first. “Tony, it might…”

“Yeah.” Their dad agreed. “Okay, keep the damn cat — you better get all his shots and stuff though. I don’t want him getting rabies or something. And you need to wash him!”

“Thank you!” Peter exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Can you hold Mowgli for a sec, mom?” His sister handed the kitten to their mother. “I just need to go get changed. “I’ll be right back, and then we’ll wash him — right, Peter!”

“Yeah!” He agreed with his sister. “Yeah, just let us get out of our suits, and we’ll wash him, and like… I dunno — order cat stuff and look up vets and everything!”

“Thank you!” Morgan called one last time, as they both made their way up stairs.

They stooped on the landing. “Yes!” Peter and his sister both exclaimed, high five-ing.

Well… they sort of had a cat now.

**_AUGUST 11, 2025, 3:49 AM — STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

“The kids are asleep.” Pepper murmured, returning to her bedroom after finding Peter and Morgan both passed out on the couch, Men in Black playing quietly on the TV. _“Finally.”_

Tony smiled at her as she got into bed, and kissed her softly. “You know what?” He asked quietly.

Pepper rolled over, so she could see him properly. “What?”

“This time, fifteen years ago, we had new-born kids.”

“Shit.” She murmured, looking at Tony in disbelief. “It’s been _fifteen years,_ Tony.”

“I know.” He breathed. “I… I can’t believe it, honestly. It’s gone so quickly.”

“Yeah.” She agreed. “Yeah, it has.”

“Anyway.” Tony said quietly. “It… well, it was a bad decision, what we did — to make that happen… but it’s the best thing that ever happened to me — _you,_ Peter and Morgan, I — I love you all so much.”

“I love you too.” Pepper whispered.

Tony smiled brightly. “That’s great, because I wanted to ask you….” He took a deep breath, and bulled something out from under his pillow. A box. He opened it, and passed it to her.

A ring. It was a ring.

“Virginia Potts.” Tony said, though still quietly. “On New Years, sixteen years ago, I didn’t know I needed you. But you’re the best thing that ever happened to me — other than the kids — and I’ve had Happy carrying this ring around since 2011 -- which is a _very_ long time, I know, I’m sorry it took this long, but….” He took another deep breath. “Will you marry me, Miss Potts?”

Pepper felt tears in the corners of her eyes, and covered her mouth with her hands. She nodded. “Yes.” She said, staying quiet as to not wake up Peter and Morgan. “Yes, yes, of course. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Tony sighed in relief as she put the ring on her finger, and gave her a quick kiss.

She laughed. “So… why today?”

Tonys face reddened in embarrassment. “Well, I mean — our relationship _technically_ started sixteen years ago… _that night..._ and it was sixteen years ago that I had a crisis because I realised that it was very likely that I was actually falling in love with you, and proceeded to act no differently to avoid my feelings. But, it was fifteen years ago, when we were in that hospital and the kids both had to be watched because they were premature, even for twins, and — you fell asleep, sitting with them in the ICU, and — and I just knew. So — yes. Yes I did.”

Pepper laughed again, and kissed him again. “Would… would that be all, Mister Stark?”

Tony rolled his eyes, smiling like an idiot all the same. “That will be all, Miss Potts.”

* * *

**SEVEN MONTHS AND SEVEN DAYS LATER**

* * *

**_MARCH 17, 2026, 7:14 AM — POTTS-STARK TOWNHOUSE, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK._ **

Morgan Potts-Stark sat cross legged on the floor of her bedroom, painting parts of the canvas in front of her very deliberately as loud music filled her ears.

It had been a year — since she sat like this, in a penthouse apartment in Upper East Side, hating the fact that she had to begin school in New York. Wishing to be back in Malibu, and, admittedly, wondering about her father. Wondering why she liked science and rock music, when her mom didn’t seem the least bit interested in either.

Now, she didn’t hate New York. Now, she lived in her brothers childhood home, with _both_ of her parents, and the psychotic stray cat that she and Peter had picked up on patrol once last year and forced their mom and dad to let them keep, Mowgli.

It was weird, to think about that time, only a year ago, when she hated New York, and longed for her father, more for the idea of having a father, than for the man himself.

The time when she had no idea that her twin brother even _existed,_ let alone was living in the same city, and was going to the school that she was about to start at.

Morgan felt detached from that time — in the same sense that she used to feel detached from the memories she had of her dad when she was extremely young. And that filled her with more joy than she could possibly explain.

She didn’t really read in to the fact that a year ago, she had been doing exactly what she was doing now, just… sadly. Instead of happily.

And the parallel between what she was doing at that moment, on the seventeenth of March, and what she had been doing on the seventeenth of March one year ago was confirmed, when _Back in Black_ by AC/DC switched to _My_ _Happiness_ by Powderfinger.

When she listened to My Happiness on the seventeenth of March last year, it made her feel homesick, and think about the time, even earlier than that — before she knew that her dad was Tony Stark; before she knew that she had a twin brother — when the song had made her hope and dream about him coming home for good, and apologising to Morgan and her mother for not being around for twelve years; letting them all live out the rest of their lives in their happy little family of three.

Now, it just made her happy — the song.

It made her happy, because her family was the way she’d been dreaming of it being for as long as she could remember; she had a dad, and a mom, and a brother… and they even had their own little dumpster cat.

“Hey, Mowges.” She said softly, as said cat rubbed up against her knee, and she scratched beneath his chin gently. “Я люблю тебя. Кто хороший кот? Ты хороший кот. Кошка.”

_[(I love you. Who's a good cat? You're a good cat. Cat.)]_

Mowgli purred, and Morgan smiled, starting to mix a new colour on her paint palette — the one that she was emotionally attached to.

A year ago, she couldn’t speak Russian. At all. A year ago, she’d never even _considered_ trying to learn Russian.

“— saw you come in and put your bags down…” She sung along with the music that was playing at full volume in her headphones. “Know there’s something in the air... how can I do this to you right now? If you’re over there when I need you here…. My happiness — is slowly creeping back. Now you’re at home. If it ever —”

 _“MORGAN!”_ Her bedroom door slammed open, revealing her very excited looking brother. “Happy anniversary!”

She burst out laughing. “Anniversary? What the fuck, dude? That’s like a thing that — _couples_ do. That’s _weird,_ bro.”

Peter rolled his eyes, and sat next to her, patting the cat as Morgan took her headphones out and continued to paint. “It _is_ an anniversary, though. A year ago today, we met — for the first time in twelve years.”

“That _is_ true.” Morgan laughed. “And, three hundred and sixty four days ago, you figured out that I was Pepper Potts kid, and told me that Tony Stark was your dad.”

“And three hundred and sixty _three_ days ago,” Her brother added, “You told me that we were twins.”

She scoffed. “That is _not_ how the conversation went. I didn’t just go _‘hey, random dude that I met two days ago, you’re my twin brother! Your mom is Pepper Potts and my dad is Tony Stark! Yay!’”_

“I mean… that’s basically the gist of it.” Peter said slowly. “It is _basically_ what you said.

“Is _not.”_ Morgan argued. "I had _proof,_ and _photos,_ and I didn’t just straight up say ‘ _you’re my twin brother.’”_

“No,” Peter rolled his eyes. "Instead, you showed we photos of when we were born and explained them in a _very_ vague way, then played mind games until I figured it out myself.”

“I didn’t play _mind games!”_ Morgan exclaimed. “All I did was let you fill in the blanks until you figured out what I was trying to say, because I was too scared to say it outright — and _you,_ as I recall, didn’t care that I did that! You were _excited_ to find out we were twins!”

“I was…" Peter trailed off. “But they were _mind games!”_

“Were not.”

“Were so.”

“Were not.”

“Were —”

“— Stop.” Morgan exclaimed. “They weren’t mind games, and we don’t need to think about the fact that you were recovering from a stab wound when that all happened —”

 _“—_ Oh, I _forgot_ about that! —"

“— and instead, we should think about waking up the newly-weds, because dad promised to make omelettes.”

“Good point.” Peter agreed. "I still can’t believe that mom and dad are _married._ Like, that is absolutely _insane._ Our parents. Are married.”

Morgan laughed at her brother. “And remember last year, when we walked in on them making out and freaked out because _that_ seemed like a big thing back then? And now they’re literally _married.”_

“Yeah.” Her brother grinned. “I’m honestly glad they they came back from their honeymoon before Spring Break — I feel like it would’ve been weird. To be just us on the holidays.”

“Alright.” She got up, and wrapped her palette up with the plastic wrap that was lying on the floor next to her. “I’ll wash my brushes after we wake them up — let’s go.”

Peter laughed, sounding the perfect (and terrifying) mix of evil and insane, and jumped up. Morgan knew that he was definitely using his super strength as he pulled her along, to their parents bedroom, and she let him do so — it was honestly better that Peter put all the effort in to moving her, when she couldn’t really be bothered doing it herself.

She was just feeling very strange. She felt… at peace. And because of that, she didn’t feel the need to rush to do anything, as her brother so clearly wanted to do.

They arrived at their parents bedroom door, and Peter knocked on it loudly. “Y’all better be dressed in there!" He exclaimed. “Because you promised us omelettes, dad, and so we're opening the door!”

“Please, _please_ have clothes on! Please!" Morgan added, as Peter pushed open the door.

Soft morning light was shining through the window, and their parents were curled up together, fast asleep — and, thankfully, they appeared to be fully dressed. Morgan wasn’t quite sure what she would’ve done if they weren’t — and she didn’t really want to find out. She would have been scarred for life, at least.

“Alright.” Their fathers muffled voice said, the man covering his eyes and rolling over. “Give me half an hour, alright? And _please,_ for the love of whatever, be _shhh.”_

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Right. Okay.” She grabbed her brothers arm, and nodded back down the hall. “I’m going to do some more painting. I'll meet you downstairs at quarter to eight.”

“Cool.” Peter nodded. “Have fun painting!”

“Have fun doing whatever you’re gonna do!” Morgan laughed, pulling her door to as she went in, and sat back down on the floor, in front of her painting.

Morgan unwrapped the plastic wrap from her paint palette, and put her headphones back on. My happiness finished playing, and the song shifted to another by and Australian group — Too Much Time Together, by San Cisco.

For some reason, unknown to her, Morgan loved relating songs back to her own life. She loved finding the meanings in them, and connecting them to her own experiences — like how she connected _My Happiness_ to her dad coming home, then to being back in Malibu, and now a reminder of how things were before she found her twin brother and her parents finally got married.

So, she could easily find the connection to her own life in Too Much Time Together. A couple who wanted to be together, but clearly had problems; they needed space, so they stayed at their own places.

That’s how her parents had been — for _twelve_ years. They’d had more space than they could possibly have needed to fix their relationship…

And, apparently that worked — staying apart. Because, after everything that had happened, her parents were going to be together for life, now. They were married, they were happy, and that meant that Morgan and her brother had what they had both been wishing for for as long as they could remember; a complete family.

Their family — she and Peter, their parents; all of them — had been broken before everything that had happened.

But now, you could never tear them apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i make sure that this had exactly 160000 words because i wanted it perfect.... yes. yes i did.
> 
> id just like to very speedy speed say thank you to ALL of yall, you are awesome, and all your comments are always so kind, and this has definitely been very long and tedious, so... yeah. thank you. i honestly cant believe that i have finished this FINALLY
> 
> anyway, happy new year everyone :)
> 
> hehe also those whomst hath read the other series i wrote there shall be another installment... sadly peter doesnt yet exist in it, but tony will definitely show up at some point :)


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